Is that a broken record player I hear?

I know I'm simply repeating everything I've been hashing out for days on end, but really... it's over.

I invited J out with me for a quick run to get a snowball on Wednesday night. He told me his throat was bothering him, and could we just hang out Friday afternoon instead? Fine.

If you know me at all, or know fiestada at all 'cause we're the same on this one, you know that all I've been doing for 36 hours is think about seeing him this afternoon. All morning I thought about it. I took longer than usual to get ready this morning. I picked out specific clothes. This was important to me.

He stalled for two hours.

Finally, he asks what I want to do. I suggest grabbing lunch somewhere, followed by a milkshake in Glen Burnie to help his throat feel better. (See? I was even thoughtful in my idea.) He immediately says no, he doesn't want a milkshake.

Fine, asshole. Since you're so quick to shoot down my idea, you decide what we're going to do.

No, he doesn't want to decide. It's up to me to come up with something else.

WRONG. I'm sorry, but I already had one idea. I refuse to sit around and play the guessing game until I stumble upon what you want to hear! You don't want to do what I suggested, which is fine, but god dammit it is then up to you to come up with something else. He refused. He got angry, demanding to know why I couldn't just make up my mind.

FUCK YOU, DUDE. I already gave up on trying to work out our issues and agreed to just "focus on the fun" or whatever, so I would expect for you to be on your so-called best behavior, but jesus christ! You're just pulling out all the old tricks which I'm already sick and fucking tired of! I told him I was tired of the games, and to just forget about it.

I was pissed off to an extreme. I needed to get out of the house. I stormed downstairs before realizing I had nowhere to go. No one to see. Nothing to do. I sat and cried for about an hour before coming back to my computer and sending him a brief email. I then decided to go for a drive to take a few pictures for a work thing, and told him he could come along. He once told me that the best date he'd ever been on was where he and the guy just drove around for hours. I know he doesn't mind just driving. So I invited him.

Back and forth, back and forth. JUST MAKE UP YOUR FUCKING MIND! ARE YOU COMING OR NOT!? He eventually said no, he wasn't coming.

I'd had it. I exploded. Look, motherfucker, you have been putting me off for TWO WHOLE WEEKS, and I still agreed to see you today. That's all I've been thinking about. So I come up with one idea, you dismiss it. An hour later I come up with another idea, and you dismiss that too. WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT FROM ME? You say that you want to make things better between us, yet you are clearly refusing to even come near me! I fucking GIVE UP. I told him that. I also told him to grow the fuck up, and that I am completely through with trying to figure him out.

I haven't spoken to him since, and doubt that I ever will again.

I'm still furious. I'm also bitterly depressed and upset. This motherfucker had me on cloud nine for nearly two months, feeling better about myself than ever before. Then, out of nowhere, drops me to the ground with absolutely no explanation. What am I supposed to do with that? This has left me lower than I was to begin with. Not to mention saying farewell to the absolute best sex of my life.

My stepmother came into my room this evening, mere seconds after I had begun crying (again). There were tears on my face, she had to have seen them, but she didn't really bring it up. Eventually she did, with her usual consoling words of wisdom. She and I then went to the liquor store and spent almost $130.

I'd like to think that all of this recent stress is the cause of my new health problems, but I'm not so sure. I can't remember the last time I was actually hungry. I've been getting several headaches a day, after a lifetime of never getting headaches at all. I've been battling constant nausea for weeks. Weird pain in my chest, abdomin, and groin.

I get worked up so much over this shit, and it's having this kind of effect on me at this age. Twenty one years old. I'm going to be dead by fifty. I only wish I was kidding.

I'm Listening To:
One Thing I Did Today: