Wishes

Okay, I am sober now, having just taught the Russian Revolution and the 1920's, but I'm still pretty fucking tired. I'm also really, really anxious! Why? I don't like the way things went with N last night. I don't think he loves me anymore. When I told him I loved him, he said "no you don't. You only think that you do." I was upset by that. I threw my arms around him and kissed him when he put me in a cab, even though he had just walked out on me in the bar. He was mad and wanted to go home because I wanted to end the discussion on alcoholism. He thinks he knows all about it, but he doesn't. He says he doesn't have a problem with it and neither do I. I disagree. And I can't stand when he says that alcoholism is an "invented disease." If it's just an "invention," then how'd I watch my dad die from it? He just didn't "feel like" quitting? That's why I got so emotional last night, and he knows it.

As we parted ways, I sent him two texts:

I DO love you!!! I wrote.

And then:

And let's drop the whole subject of AA forever!

But Narc has decided that I don't love him, and he makes his own reality. What have I ever done that would make him not believe me? It doesn't matter. He is closed to me. It hurts.

I don't remember a lot of last night, but I do remember telling him that I haven't been with anyone else except for him for a year. Why? Was I trying to prove my love? He didn't say anything-- at least not that I can recall.

When I got there last night, CouchSleeper greeted me with a smile. He knew a lot about me. I liked that Narc had talked about me to him.

"Narc tells me that you're a singer!" he said. "And that you study history?"

He also said that Narc told him I watch One Life to Live.

"Yes, although I haven't been following for a few years," I replied.

When we went outside for a smoke, CouchSleeper asked if I could sing the "Queen of the Night" aria.

"I can, but not at performance level," I laughed. I chirped out a few notes. He was impressed.

He asked why I'm not a professional singer and I told him that it's because I can't commit to take care of my health and because I'm shy.

"I can tell that you're shy!" he said. "Every time I see you, for those fleeting moments at Narc's place, you kind of just dash out of there."

"Yeah, I know."

(Really, though-- it's an awkward situation, don't you think? I'm having sex with Narc and then come out of the bedroom to confront a boy I barely know waking up on the couch. Plus, I've never gotten the impression that Narc wants me to be friendly with or get to know his friends. That's why I dash out!)

Later, Narc went to buy more cigarettes. CouchSleeper asked me when the Enlightenment started. I answered his question. He wanted to know when it "ended," and why capitalism gets associated with liberalism in the 19th century. I answered all of his questions and went on and on. He seemed to be enjoying the conversation, and I have to say, I really liked him!

CouchSleeper cut out at around 1:00 am and I stayed with Narc to drink. I'm not having much success with this "moderation" stuff so far! Damn it! I hate myself today.

And what is Narc thinking? I don't think he's mad at me, persay, but I do know that he hates my "dramatics" and I got a little too emotional last night. He doesn't like it anymore when I say that I love him. He used to like that. When I was a person much further away...

I feel so consumed by guilt and anxiety and exhaustion today. But I have another twelve hours to go before I can expect my head to hit the pillow.

This morning I texted Narc again:

Dying...! ;)

I wanted to soften things. I hope he's not mad at me.

I'm tired, tired, tired!!!

Last night I talked to Hammer on the phone and only remember traces of the conversation. She had some major SingMan drama and desperately needs to update her blog, but she has no steady internet connection in her new apartment.

I wish everything with Narc were different than it is.

I wish for a lot of things...

-h-