Watch him never call me again.

I doubt he would, actually. He seems very considerate and good about doing things like calling me to say that he got my message but is busy, and hasn't forgotten about me. My neurotic self needs things like this. He knows how to clear the air - James knew how to did this too.

Nevertheless, I want him to call.

Last night, though, despite his thoughtfully reassuring message, I was a bundle of nerves. I did push ups and sit ups to try to calm myself down, and listened to And no more shall we part (a good candidate for my favorite album of Cave's - I know almost all the words) and read - oh, how I read. I fell asleep, a sound and idea-free sleep, around ten.

I woke late in the night - stumbled out of the room - all because I thought I heard his voice. I stared at the boys in the corridor - I was wet eyed and my hair was curling and my pajamas were lovely. They were not him. And I thought "Perhaps I should just turn right round and head back to my room" but I thought that would be too strange, so I went to the bathroom instead. I am a strange person.

I feel sometimes like I work very hard to keep from letting myself go mad.

Meanwhile, I am the incredible shrinking Margaret. Somehow I've lost weight since New Years - because the pants I was wearing then I physically cannot wear even with a belt, and the pants that were tight then are falling off. So, go figure. I've not exactly been the most active - certainly not during January - and I've certainly not been eating very well (I'm a mixture of forgetting to eat as well as gorging myself).

I had a bad dream where I was making out with a drunken man, and all the while knowing that I was being unfaithful. It felt hideous.

2003-02-05, amateurs dilletantes hacks cowboys clones

before / after

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