I'm back to wishing that I had more friends up here in Binghamton, as my cohort-mates tend to not want to do anything other than drink and go to bars when we get together.  Never a movie, or just dinner, or hanging out at someone's house, or something like that.  It is always a damn bar, and so it isn't surprising to me that I almost always opt out.

Though at the same time, I kind of wanted to stay at home no matter what.  I'm really tired, because I once again did not sleep very well, and I kept myself awake too long thinking about stupid shit.

I should email Nancy, to try and see her either tomorrow or Friday.  Talk to her about how I have these contradictory emotions of both relief and disappointment about lack of confrontation, and that anger has wormed its way in there as well.  At myself, really; I keep saying that I should have, if I had really wanted to, sent something earlier.  The relief is only because I do not need to worry about something bad happening anymore, but I guess I wanted to tell him shit to his face badly enough.  If not, I probably wouldn't be so weirdly miffed about it.

Though I kind of hate that I am, because as best friend said, it shows that I'm still not fucking over stuff, and that sucks.  It sucks and it is terrible and I get stupidly angry whenever I actually fully acknowledge that truth (usually I'll quantify it to myself: "oh I'm over him but not over the idea of him" or something like that).  He took a weekend, basically and then has had three other significant relationships during the time frame I've spent trying to piece myself back together, all while spewing the same "I just can't be in a relationship" line.

I wasn't special to him, really.  I wasn't, and I know at times I tell myself that that is okay when it actually still upsets me.  Because I was the fool who thought I was special and loved and so did everything in my power to do things for this person, blind to the fact that I was being manipulated and lied to.  Despite him being a terrible boyfriend, I wanted to make him happy.  Really, it is no wonder that he was so easily able to do those things to me, given my emotional state.

Oftentimes, I say that I want to be in love again.  I want to be with someone again.  To feel that level of trust and comfort and be able to fall asleep in someone's arms and know that I will wake up to someone who will smile at me and hug me if I am sad or had a bad dream.  Who will laugh at me when they try to get me up but I'm too sleepy to be coherent in any way.  All that corny shit that belongs in hallmark cards that I would never have admitted to years ago.  But at other times, I don't want that again.  I want to close off, recalling exactly what he was able to get me to do for him, while I was too in love and thus too stupid to see that I was sacrificing too much and gaining too little (really, I could have used a course on game theory pre-relationship).  I don't want to be stupid.  And I'm not saying that love makes everyone like that, but I am certainly saying that it makes me like that: blind to lies and deception, and clueless when it comes to what that person actually thinks of me.

I go back and forth.  I guess I cannot really tell what I want.  I'm not sure what that is.  When it comes to anything, honestly.

I have no idea what will make me honestly and truly happy.


Also flash flood warning aww yeah I love thunderstorms and shit.