personal attacks
But it's a risk I'm willing to take.
The next stretch of weeks without Mike will last about seven weeks and I'm concerned about myself. I've got a bad way of sabotaging things. I've got a bad way of quitting when things get difficult and feeling like I'm better off on my own.
But I would never knowingly just end things with Mike. I would instead slowly break down our connections until I was thoroughly blindsighted by things we lack. Until after a period of six months I had completely dispelled all my enchantment.
This is what I fear in myself as something I could possible render, but I pray for strength.
Strength and faith.
For his sake, too.
Because I love him, and I want to learn how to live with/for/beside another person and not just myself. In my heart I know he understands and of all the people I could have chosen to go through such transitions with, Mike is the best partner.
But I'm still sleeping poorly when I go to bed sober and then waking up too late.
Last night at four a.m. I jerked awake with fear in my heart and I text paged Mike to respond as soon as he got the message. Without falling asleep again, he answered two hours later that everything was fine. Then I slept till nine.
When he's in the bed with me he wakes up around four or five and pulls me to him tightly for that last couple hours of sleep. That dark pre-dawn hour where we brace ourselves against sunrise. I really missed sharing the bed with him last night.
One day. By day. At a time.
My weekend was special, though. Mike and I had a phone date on Friday, which was very cute of us, I thought.
Saturday I went to more colloquia talks about Computational Linguistics. It's the most boring aspect of language *ever*. These are the people who are statisticians and show computationally how the brain is a statistical learner; they're the people who deal in machine translation and forensics. The people with no love for language itself.
Seriously: major nerds to the point that one of the presenters was comparing these few sentences used in a computer-training exercise and had used the phrase "spray/load stimuli" to describe it (based on the word "spray" being in the sample sentence.
I thought I was going to lose my shit, but I was mature.
At seven that night about fifty linguists had dinner together at this French restaurant, where for ten bucks I got dinner and bottomless wine. Met a goofy geek with good music sense from Michigan State.
Ended up shooting pool at el Vid with a congnitive-scientist name Geancarlo (a buddy of mine here at IU), aforementioned Michigan geek, and a Slovakian girl who kicked our asses at pool.
They left at 11:00, and I should have too, I think, since I'd been out since 7:00, but I wasn't "done". Whatever that means.
Of all people I ended up calling Winter, who said he was on his way to el Vid, so I joined him and Pat and Eddie. Pat's cool.
Pat turned to me with, "so, I hear you're a Christian." There was a long conversation that ensued, and one that is sort of draining. In a good way. There were a lot of questions he had, and from my spirit I guess I had a lot of answers.
If God can use anything, I'm certain he can use me. I'm better than nothing, I guess.
As the bar closed a stranger began talking to me. At first I remember thinking he was smart and funny, but then he offended me with something he said. It involved the word "pussy" but I cannot remember what it was.
What pissed me off, though, was that I tried to walk away from him, and he insisted on apologizing and getting me to forgive him. When I say something like, "I don't want to talk to you anymore," and my decision is solid, if someone tries to coerce me I become livid.
I asked Winter for a ride home, and the offensive stranger said *he* was riding with Winter... but I could sit on his lap.
I just started walking the ten blocks hom. It's not bad, but it was after three and I wasn't sober and I felt angry and offended and I felt like it was unfair that my boyfriend wasn't there with me to make me feel supported.
So there you have it: the roots of my frustration with Mike. It has NOTHING to do with him.
I think I can forgive him of that.
:)
Yesterday I saw Dodge Ball, and I really would hit it with Vince Vaughan if I ever ran into him.
The girls took me out for dinner, too, for my birthday. Wonderful friends both of them!
