Thursday, Oct. 14, 2004 | 2:30 a.m.
Hurricane Heart Attack
The Warlocks

I don't where to start... the beginning would be good.

My mind has been all cluttered and muddled thanks to Mr.8 lately. On Monday, I decided to do something about it for my sanity. I told him that he needs to tell me the following so I can move on:

1. He's totally in love with his girlfriend.
2. He's never breaking up with her.
3. To take it back... to tell me he doesn't love me and that he made a mistake when he said it.

We talked for a while. I cried like there was no tomorrow. He only did # 1 and refuses to do # 2 and # 3. Basically, I get no closure. All of the shit I put myself through on Monday did me no good. I'm right back to where I started. Limbo. Except for the fact that I'm really starting to get pissed off which is a good sign for me. It means I will create my own closure in the form of anger. It's a slower process than I want it to be but I have to move on.

I told him that I have never asked him for anything. I also reminded him that I have been incredibly discreet through all of this. I asked him to tell me what I need to hear to help me. I asked him to let me go.

He won't do what I need and that makes me upset. It leaves me in limbo. In a mind fuck that I don't even understand.

What I do know is this: since the second I saw him for the first time in April I knew I was in trouble. I knew he would take my heart. He's got it and I want it back. I may have temporarily given it to Mr. 10 but I know Mr. 8 has it again.

I told him that our connection (or whatever the hell it is) has always scared the shit out of me.

I know it's timing. Fuck timing. That is the lamest excuse ever. If you want something timing has nothing to do with it because it will happen if you let it.

He's just not into me... but he won't say it and I need him to.

I need him to stop staring at me. I need him to stop caring. I need him to be a complete asshole to me. I need him to stop wanting to talk to me or be my friend. I need him to leave me alone.

It's the only way that any of this can get resolved in my head.

The thing is... if I let myself... I could really fall in love with that asshole.

This depresses the hell out of me. I need to write about something else.

Work was fine on Tuesday. I was numb all day. My patients noticed that I wasn't myself. Argh.

After work, I went to the annual HOA meeting for my complex. I live with some real fucking whiney ass cunt scabs. Yes, you read it, cunt scabs. The board of directors see to the day-to-day operations of the complex as volunteers. They work hard and for fucking free. Then, these cunt scabs show up at the annual meeting and have the nerve to yell at them. Do any of them show up to the monthly meetings? Do they volunteer their time to help? Fuck no. Why do I know? I used to be on the board of directors and got sick of being yelled at, so I quit. Yep, I'm a quitter and I don't regret my decision - at all.

A man that lives a few buildings away died last week. They found his body on Monday. The complex maintenance guys noticed the stench coming from his unit. He couldn't be taken out the front door. They took out the bedroom window and part of the building to get his body out. He was over 400 pounds and it took seven men to carry him. The health department condemned his unit as uninhabitable. He had a path from is front door to his bedroom and one to the bathroom. You cannot walk into the living room, kitchen or dining room because there is over 2 feet of trash. It was mostly bottles of liquor and McDonald's. The bathroom toilet broke a while ago and he attempted to fix it so he hooked up the hot water to the toilet. It didn't work right so he had a major feces and mold problem. His family will have to have his entire unit rebuilt. Everything has to be removed - everything except for the structural weight bearing 4x4's and incinerated (or whatever they do in these matters). When John, one of the maintenance guys, went in to fix the toilet, he ran out after a minute and vomited. Another guy went in and tried and he got sick too. To keep the building up to code they had to fix the toilet but it tool a while to find someone that wasn't going to wretch. It's a sad situation.

I ran some errands today and ended up in The Tatter Cover Bookstore for an hour and a half. I got engrossed in the bargain books in the basement. I wasn't paying attention to anyone. I was thoroughly enjoying myself. Then some guy said that now he knew why some of these books were in the basement. I looked up and said, "yep, you have to look". Then I recognized this jackass that was picking up on me in the bookstore. It was Dan, this guy I dated 3 or 4 years ago. He made it into a photo album but only as the world's 2nd worst kisser (he was almost a tie with Lino from college but Lino won as # 1). Seriously, he was bad. What kills me is that he didn't recognize me. What the hell is that?!

Here's what I bought:

Being Alexander by Nancy Sparling ($2.98)
American Skin by Don de Grazia ($3.98)
High Fidelity by Nick Hornby ($5.98)
About a Boy by Nick Hornby (4.98)
and 2 boxes of Christmas cards ($4.00)
my total came to 23.50! A shopper's orgasm of a deal!

It was chilly out so I went to Peaberry and got some Chai. I decided to head to the Wednesday night kickball games. I just got home at 2am. It was good fun. It kept my mind occupied for a while.

I've got some reading to start! Yippee!

Great friggin' weekend (sorta). I worked on Sunday but had Saturday off. This sinus infection is kicking my ass.

I went Halloween shopping on Saturday and picked up the cutest stinking costume ever! I went with a good friend and we both decided to be the same thing. I can share the attention with her. It's funny, stupid and cute all at the same time. What more could a girl ask for? Well...

Mr. 8 called on Saturday night. He wanted to hang out. Since I had to work early on Sunday and was already sick I couldn't see him. It's good to be unavailable but then again I really do enjoy sex. Especially with him... I was bummed.

Work was a bitch. The acuity level on one of my regular patients went up. On Friday he was just ok. I walked into his room about 7:30 Sunday morning and knew instantly that his condition changed. He had this horrible wheezy coughing/ breathing issue that he didn't have on Friday. At around 6 pm the docs finally did something about it. I'll see how he is when I go in on Tuesday.

Last Monday I wrote that one of my favorite patients was dying. He died Sunday at 5:06 pm. His wife came over from ICU and told me at 5:45 pm. I cried. She held me for a long time and we cried together. He's a good person and should not have died. I hate it when life isn't fair. I fucking hate it. If I'm off on the day of his funeral I think I will probably go. In a bizarre sick sense I hope it's open casket. Funeral homes can make a person look so beautiful in death. I want to see what he might have looked like if he was healthy when I knew him. He wasn't even 50 years old.

I'm emotionally wiped out. I don't want to distance myself from my patients but how much of myself can I give to each of them? How much do I need to keep for myself and sanity? I hate that I'm an empathetic piscean.

I can't stand a lot about myself but I don't think I would change much if it was possible.

I'm fine. A group of my friends and I are doing something that might hurt someone's feelings next month. It'll benefit a ton of people but it will hurt her feelings. I just don't know if we should tell her or let the chips fall where they may. I'm not the lead "dog" on this project so it isn't up to me just yet.

I am obsessed. I've been listening to 1150AM for the past few weeks and I just can't seem to turn it off. I know Denver radio sucks but this is blowing me away! They just played Social D and now they are playing Midnight Oil. Fuck Me. Rock On.

Mr. 8 and I have been emailing each other the last few days. It's all this math geek stuff that we get into. He is like me, I have numbers run through my head when I'm trying to get to sleep. Then I figure out the square root and some of its divisors. He goes a little bit farther than me and tries to figure out if his phone number is prime. I got him a website that will figure out divisors for him so he doesn't have to lay up at night and try to figure them out. Someone out there is even math geekier than him.

I have a fucking sore throat. Bite Me. I will suck it up and wear a mask at work all day tomorrow. Ugh.

Am I a bad person?

I've packed my bags to go on a guilt trip. I'll let you know when I get back.

A patient I've had for the past month is dying.

He recognized me on Friday morning. Friday evening I couldn't get him to eat. I only got moans of pain out of him on Saturday.

I overheard the docs tell his wife that at this point his life span is expressed in days or possibly weeks.

I cried.

Today I went to ICU. I talked to him for a while and left. Your hearing is the last sense to leave you. I think he heard me.

Then I cried again.

The concert was great. Ahhhhh. I have no words. Like most shows it was a sausage-fest. Just the way I like it. Plenty of eye candy. Eat them up...yum.

I showed up at the bar after the show.

Stinky told me that I smell like Sweet Tarts and he likes Sweet Tarts. I will let his wife know what I was wearing...

The kickball bar is freaking me out. I keep on running into this guy randomly around town and ran into him tonight. I ran into someone from college there last week too. Who will I see next week? My Mom? Jeez.

Steve, the chicken-shit, was there. He had plenty of Liquid Courage going for him. I asked him if anything is going on this Saturday night.

Him - "Well, on Saturday night we're having sex."

Me - "Ok"

Him - "What are you doing on Sunday?"

Me - "I'm having sex all day with you. We'll take a break to eat and shower around 2ish."

Then I went home and now I'm going to bed.

No, I didn't take any of that seriously.

I went out with my neighbor last night. I had a great time. I worked all day and then saw her lights on and decided I needed a drink or five. Kickball is on Wednesday nights too so we went to the kickball bar. I looked in the window and didn't see any kickballers and assumed they must have gotten rained out. Once a week is enough for me at that bar so we decided to go somewhere else.

We ended up at a bar talking to some regulars. The conversation got a little boring for me so it was time to move on again. I wanted to see if any of the kickballers showed up at the bar yet so we stopped by again. Alas, no one was there. Wednesday night kickballers really disappoint me.

Eventually we ended up at a bar near our condo complex and ordered food. We talked about sex and boys and all that good stuff until I recognized a guy. It took me a while to figure out that I met him on St. Patrick's Day (see the Dirty Epic post). It was The Shit, Patrick. He even said last night that he intended to kiss me that night. I didn't even think it was worth it to remind him why he didn't:

1. He dated one of my best friends.
2. His girlfriend showed up.

He tried to kiss me last night but he just doesn't do anything for me. I turned my head. I've been reminded recently what it feels like to connect with someone. We don't have the connection I need and want.

FYI...the Pixies are tonight! I might go to the kickball bar after - I will see how I feel since I work on Friday and Saturday.

Here's my passive-aggressive rant for the day:
No, I'm not going to email or call you. What fucking good would that do? No, I'm not going to do a "pop-over" and just show up naked on your doorstep. You break my heart and then you continue to read my blog. Fine. Do what you need to do. I hope it makes you feel better.

This has always been about YOU and what's convenient for YOU. Did you really ever consider my feelings when you were lying to me? That's right, I was supposed to know that I needed to read between the lines on everything. I was supposed to know that you really meant that you were being an asshole and that I shouldn't like you. Silly me, I thought you just had a self-esteem issue.

Then I give you credit for finally being honest with me. That's the way I am. I try to look at the good in people and give them credit where it's due. I just didn't know that I was already past my turning point. Here I am. Still guarded and keeping people out.

Did you ever even feel crappy about the situation you put me in?

It's been so long I don't remember everything. All I know is that I am done. You are safe from ever hearing from me again. I never just wanted to be with you for a short while - that was your choice. You NEVER even tried. That's what hurts the most. Knowing that I'm not worth trying...

You never called, you never emailed, you never stopped by on Thursday nights. Actions speak louder than anything you've ever said or emailed to me.

I was nothing.

Then again, YOU asked me to wait for you.

I'm done trying to figure it all out and I'm happy with my memories. I never intended our time to be so short.

BTW, did you want that Christian Death album? I have no use for it and it would complete your collection. It's a collector's edition w/a 7-inch single. I could mail it to you. Seriously, I would do that.

I have no regrets. Take care of yourself and your little ones. K

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