mainsqueeze's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- self-defeating lies you've been repeating Dear Matt, I miss you. I need you. Fuck. Edgy girl, edgy Angela. I feel like I might break in two. The other day, I asked Jeromy if he'd noticed that I've been losing weight. He told me that it was probably because I've been smoking so much lately, and that it was disgusting. In truth, it is probably due to the fact that my stomach is one huge knot lately. I can't eat. I'm not always like this, I promise, but right now I want to curl up tight with a bottle of something strong and an endless supply of cigarettes. Matt, I want you to be here, right now, like you were four years ago. I want to be who I was back then, too. I want you to hold my head and pet my hair and tell me how fucking amazing I am. Fuck that. I want to be truly amazing. I want to astound myself. Matthew, here is my list. These are the reasons to stay with a person: 1. He makes you laugh and chuckle and giggle and snicker and guffaw. 2. You know that he wants you, and you want him, too. 3. He talks about things that surprise you. 4. When he wakes up in the morning, he pulls you toward him. He never pushes you away. 5. He loves your dog. 6. He talks about your future together-- not in the scary 2.5 children picket fence Mrs. So-and-so kind of way, but in a subtle, sweet way. 7. He teaches you new things. 8. When you get home from work, he fusses over you and kisses you and makes you feel like the most terrific person in the world. 9. He changes his fucking disgusting sheets more that once a month. 10. He puts at least a tiny bit of effort into his appearance. 11. He tries. He never stops trying. 12. He will play drinking-and-strip Scrabble with you, or drinking-and-strip Monopoly, or else he will just drink and strip with you. 13. He gives a shit. About anything. Oh, and he asks to read your poetry and your stories and at least wants a fucking copy of your fucking published work, that fucking fuck fuck. Fuck. Ahem. 14. HE MAKES YOU WANT TO BE A BETTER PERSON. Yes, the caps are intentional. Its like you and I were talking about earlier-- Jeromy really doesn't give a shit if I become an award-winning author or a fat, alcoholic waitress. My motivation has flagged so much since I've been with him. Echh. But this list isn't about him specifically. 15. You don't want anyone else, and neither does he. 16. Occasionally, he calls in sick for you and kidnaps you and drives you to some random place in some random city and books a seedy motel for the weekend and you spend the next two days humping like rabbits and talking about your fucked-up childhoods and professing your undying love. 17. You feel lost without him, not lost with him. My list is three items shorter than yours, I know, but those are the big things. I could have added really particular stuff, such as he must like shitty B movies and have at least some small secret affection for Guns N Roses and read comic books and love that bass solo in that one song and sing along with me in the car and hold my hand all the goddamned time and be able to pick my single favorite line in any given song and share my huge love of robots and gadgets and kind of want to buy a Roomba because they're cute and not make me throw away my gross tee-shirts and never, ever suggest to me that I should get contacts and let me leave my glasses on during sex so I'm not a blind, fumbling, um, blind fumbling person and cry with me during sad movies like Foti did and go for walks with me and ride bikes with me and understand why "Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back" was such a major fucking letdown and not be religious and not pinch my breasts in public like a fucking boor and he must absolutely adore the song 14-41 and scream Fugazi at me or at least be aware of the existence of Ian MacKaye and well able to name at least three of his bands and understand my stupid weakness for all that is punk-rocky and grungy, especially Kurt Fucking Cobain and not be pissed off when I decide to wake him up at 2am because I had a dream about dying and... and... that's about it, I think. Do I have a shot in hell with Ozzy? Of course, you and I are fast approaching the time when our marriage vow must be honored. I might be able to wait. I should go to sleep. Really. I need hot water and maybe a stiff drink and my dog cuddled next to me and the company of the friendly ghost that shares my bedroom. I need... I need me. Not to be overly dramatic or self-important, but that is exactly what I need. No relationship, no obligations, no hazardous strings, no sad spaces in the middle of the bed... Just Angela. I used to fucking love me, once. I should find that again. Goodnight, Matt. I love you, dearest friend. --Angela 12:29 a.m. - 2004-09-16 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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