It's Sunday morning now and I'm trying desperately to fight the urge to call HC. I think we may have broken up last night. Yesterday was a very long day which included surprise frantic friend ringing doorbell at 9:30 am, frantic friend holding me up until 1:00 pm. Argument with HC somewhere in the middle. A quick resolution that left me feeling good enough to take a shower and go read my new book in a bar. Walked home with a buzz. Talked to mom for an hour and had a good time. I honestly can't remember if that was followed by another fight with HC or just a nice, long talk. The fights have gotten so frequent that they just seem to blend into one another like this forever ongoing battle between the 'always wanting to explain how I feel until I've explained so much feelings have trouble existing' and the 'defensive, I'll bottle this up until I break up with you later tonight and you won't know what hit you.'
So I went out drinking again after that....with my book. (Different bar of course) I'm not down with going to bars by myself unless I have a book. The book makes me look 'busy, unapproachable'. It gives me that I'm not here to meet dudes look. The book acts as a comfort so that I can not be bothered until I feel more comfortable. I get comfortable somewhere between my first and second drink. Of course I keep reading, but I'll look around a little more and laugh if I over hear something funny. Sometimes, like last night, this could lead to decent discussions and good laughs. I had a good time at the bar last night. There were narcs, out of place swingers looking for young, hip couples, and yet another gay man who I had no idea was gay, and this tough as nails, rock a billy, tattoos up the neck which made her look like she was wearing a neck brace, ROLLER DERBY chick. This chick must have practiced showing off her neck tattoos because she looked like she couldn't move her neck and it was ridiculous. She was super hot though.
I spoke to Mike for a minute while I was out and called the moment I left the bar. We spoke again briefly when I got home. I don't much like walking home in Philly with a lot of drinks in me. I'd like to think HC doesn't either. He was going out again. From the party to the bar.
He called and woke me up at 12:30 on the button. I asked him to and only just now am I realizing how wonderful it is that he did that. As a matter of fact, he almost always calls on time. I guess that means that a.) He totally does think of me when he's out b.) He listens to me when I talk c.) Even though he was drinking and with all his boys, he still kept an eye on the time d.) all of the above
I'm such a bitch. This could go on and on forever and the underlying theme of it all would be that I ruin every relationship that I'm in and I think it's because of my mother. Sometimes I stop and hear myself nagging, nagging, nagging, crying, bawling, repeating, explaining, let me say just one more thinging. I hated when she did that and she still does I think. I do it. I probably do it even better than her. I'm going to stop now because I have to find a way to fix my relationship. HC didn't do anything wrong last night except not be home. He drank every day this week and I hate that. But who the fuck am I to crucify him for it. He doesn't do it like that every week. I just didn't want to hear him talk about the end of summer rituals. Excuses, I thought. He's a 25 year old guy with amazing friends. I really need to stop being this person I've become and start having more fun. I do have an amazing boyfriend. I've always known that. We all know that even if he became the man I thought I wanted him to be, I probably wouldn't love him anymore.