The Cloud

There's not much to say, because everything that I feel is a little flat right now. I've sort of been all over the place with this Narc thing. It's been a week and a half. First I was angry at him. For a brief moment, I felt empowered. Then I started to feel as if I had made a miserable mistake. I wanted to apologize to him. I felt guilty. I felt remorseful. Then I had a great therapy session and felt a little bit more emotional freedom. A slight sense of empowerment began to come back. That dissipated quickly though, because in the end, I miss him. I just miss him. And it's my own fault, because I chose not to accept him on his terms. That's why he's not here at all.

I've been trying not to dwell on this, but it's hard not to, as it is all so fresh. Worst of all, I can't be sure why he hasn't called me yet-- if it's because he doesn't want to-- because he's mad at me-- because he hates me... or if it's because he's busy with CouchSleeper and otherwise occupied.

I know I shouldn't care, but I do... Narc is not in every thought in the front of my mind, but my feelings for him and about him have formed a sort of thick cloud shrouding every other thing I do. It's weighing me down. There's no other way to say it-- I hate myself about it all and I am sad.

On Thursday night I had dinner with Anxious. She needed some advice about graduate school. She is applying for PhD programs in Spanish and got accepted to a school in Maryland (with a great financial aid package). The problem is that she's not sure that she wants to leave NY. We ate Italian food and shared a bottle of wine. Anxious also made sure to show me her diamond ring from BulgarianGuy.

"I'm 30 years old now," she said. "I'm done with semi-precious. I need some precious stones! And I have to set a precedent-- at least $200 for an anniversary gift, you know? This ring was $450."

It made me want to puke. I don't like when boys spend money on me.

Afterwards I had plans to meet Hammer at her new apartment, to watch a movie and to celebrate the "holiday"-- 4/20.

On my way down there, I stopped in at Cheers for a quick drink, because KHill's friend Dave was outside the bar and started flirting with me. I think that that whole crew of boys (KHill, FightingMensch, etc.) just think that I'm really wild and promiscuous (although I'm not!) and it amuses them. It kind of amuses me too. I find the dynamic entertaining.

Anyway, when I got to Hammer's neighborhood, she was at a restaurant with her friend, Maximus. I joined them and we all chatted for a while, but Maximus had to take off. Hammer and I stopped over at Daddy O's (the place where I MET Narc!) and I had one more drink and then it was off to Hammer's.

Hammer's new place is gorgeous and it's finally starting to come together-- the walls are beautifully painted and she has lovely French doors. I said hi to little Jimmy who had injured his beak the day before. On our way into the building, Hammer discovered a strange note for her in her mailbox area-- a note from Sing-Man! As all that is Hammer's story, I'll let her fill you in on it over at her blog. Both of us were pretty excited about it though.

While Hammer and I were working on rolling some joints, she was instant-messaging with Mohawk-- a fairly new suitor. (Actually she was dictating and I was typing. It was funny.) Mohawk said he wanted to stop by later on in the evening. Finally, we moved into her bedroom for the movie. She had seen parts of a particular movie-- Next Stop Greenwich Village while she was in Phoenix and she insisted that I see it. It had a "sex" scene (without any sex) that I would die for, she said. She was right!

About a quarter of the way into the movie, Mohawk arrived. It was a little "awkward" (as NDN likes to say) as Hammer and I were both high, Mohawk and I had never met, and all three of us were stretched out on Hammer's bed with this rather strange selection of a film. I absolutely loved the movie, and that scene in particular, but it was a little difficult to get all giggley and talk about it with Hammer because the dynamic had changed once Mohawk was there.

I was so high that I kept on thinking that I had all sorts of complex insights about the film, but I was unable to pull up the words with which to discuss those ideas as they occurred.

At around 12:30, the movie ended and I decided to take off and let Hammer and Mohawk "do their thing." I took a cab back uptown and saw that Cheers was still open. Bad idea, but I went in. I drank a lot there and fast-- 10 jacks and 2 shots of Jager in an hour and a half. Obviously, I don't remember getting home after that.

The next day-- Friday, I was too out of it to do anything. I felt like shit. I kept coughing-- a sort of racking cough that hurt my chest. My eyes were itching and stinging. My head was pounding. I couldn't eat. My thoughts were sticky and muddled. I was just a wreck. I thought that I'd recover by mid-afternoon, but I didn't. B came over for a few hours and that cheered me up for a while, but I still didn't have the energy to do much. When he left, I lay limpidly on the couch watching "Date my Mom" on MTV, with glazed eyes and heavy heart. By 9:00 pm, I couldn't believe that I still hadn't recovered. I decided to try to get myself something to eat.

I donned my hooded sweatshirt and headed out into the cold. I looked like hell-- purple circles hung under my eyes. My eyelids were pink, puffy and swollen. I hunched over and lit a cigarette. When I passed by Cheers, BarMan tapped at the window to wave hello. I waved back without pausing. A few slices of pizza later, I felt a little bit revived. As soon as I did, there was that little voice again--

Maybe you should get out of the house, Hyde. You could go to Cheers. You'd probably feel better--more energy after a drink or two.

I forced myself to ride it out. Simultaneously exhausted and restless, I paced the apartment. I felt like Narc-- "going stir crazy," "ugh... dying!" "contemplating my naval"... "marinating in my own juices..." This is his life. I never wanted it for myself. I read some of the blogs. Charby wrote about Ben & Jerry's.

Ice cream! That's it! I want ice cream!

The sweatshirt went back on. The wind blew in my eyes as I crossed the street, causing them to tear. I felt a streak of evil in me. I wanted to do something mean to someone. I wanted to hit someone or spit at someone. I wanted to trip someone... to knock over everything in the store and laugh. But then it passed.

I bought chocolate ice cream-- Chocolate Fudge Brownie. Narc likes that kind. I came home and ate it in bed.

I'm being Bridget Jones, I wrote to Hammer.

After a few spoonfuls, I put the ice cream away and pulled the covers up tight around me. What was on TV? A 1958 movie starring Susan Hayward-- I Want to Live! It was about a woman involved in a lot of petty crime (bad checks, solicitation, etc) who ends up on death row, wrongfully accused of murder. I love 1950's culture and this was perfect, with it's swanky jazz and seedy dames! I think I fell asleep around 2:30.

This morning, I had plans to meet NDN to go "play with money" down in Chinatown. It was also the annual Taste of Chinatown food festival, so we indulged in that. NDN wants to have a lobster dinner tonight, so we picked up a couple of two pound lobsters, right out of the tank. I refuse to be present for the boiling, but I'll be preparing the side dishes.

So, that's it for now.

The bottom line-- I'm depressed and sensitive right now. I'm feeling very confused. But this is my life. I found a business card in my journal--some Russian publisher. Who the fuck knows what that's about. I wrote a letter to myself in my journal while I was drunk. Which night? I have no idea. Why couldn't you bend far enough? Don't call him because he doesn't want you. It's all your fault. Just live with the remorse. Or, if you have to-- Wait until his birthday and write to him then. I know, I'm fucking crazy.

Anyway, that's me... living under a cloud.

Monday I go back to work. I think it'll be good for me.

love,
hyde