Friday, June 25, 2010

Blood on the Tracks

It's been a tempestuous week so far. There were times when I thought I weren't gonna make it. I had been suffering from these anxiety attacks  over the past fortnight. I'm generally a worrier, but these waves of despair and bodily panic were something else. My thoughts concerning Joel were the cause. I started battling with huge bouts of guilt over still being with him. I know I mustn't be that easy to be around, and that's enough to make me feel guilty when Joel is just so fucking calm and sensitive all the time. Constantly, he wanted to try and make me happy. And he can't. I don't want to get pseudo-philosophical here so I won't, and I'll just say that it was eating me up, because he's too nice for this world. Joel's so nice, it could verges on naivety. It's a lot more intricate than what I'm prepared to go into in a blog post, but I ended it last weekend cos I couldn't take the attacks on my respiratory system and the waves of nausea anymore.

It was every bit as hard as I thought it would be. It killed me. Those first couple of days were awful, it felt like grief. After we broke up (I hate saying that) I still stayed round his and did our usual thing of watching Seinfeld. We even decided to have sex one last time. I left the next day and that's when my anxiety turned into regret, longing and desolation. If Joel wasn't being so fucking wonderful, this would've been a whole lot worse. We've still been talking every day, actually for longer than we ever did (2 and a half hours a day is the average), and he says he still wants to see me as often as before. He basically said everything I wanted to hear. 

Tuesday was my first 24 hours without crying over him. That was a relief. All I wanted to do before that was sleep, but couldn't, and I was struggling to fill in the hours. Just what you need to happen when you're unemployed. On the Sunday, under the influence of a broken heart, I suggested that maybe we should just stay together. I guess my logic was that the panic attacks would be easier to deal with than the longing for Joel and the mourning for what was. To be honest now, I don't think one is any worse than the other. Joel understandably answered in the negative. He said he'd just feel like we were prolonging it and he'd be on tenderhooks as to when the break up would occur again. I'm grateful that he's not been weak in all this like I have.

I went to the pub on Wednesday during the England game with Cassie. I had already drunk a fair bit by the afternoon. I just felt so excitable because of the atmosphere. The upstairs of Kingston's Wetherspoons had been moved around in such a way that it resembled a school assembly. All the singular seats were placed in rows in front of the big screen tele, providing a seating area for what was mainly male fans. Minus a couple of sofas which gave an obscured view of the TV, the rest of the punters had to stand. Our drinks were being served in disposable plastic cups, and there was a real sense of momentum.

After the game we went to the Fighting Cocks. As I sipped at my latest pint, I wished I weren't already drunk so I could enjoy it. I have this really bad habit of not knowing when to stop. I know when to stop drinking but when I'm out, alcohol stimulates my energy levels so much, I just never want to go home. I feel like I'm going to miss something. I can talk about it now cos I'm sober, but I keep doing it. So we stayed all night. My mum's in LA at the moment visiting my sister so she left me with a bit of money to get food and the like. I've obviously interpreted 'food' to mean 'cider.'

I left the Cocks in time for my last bus (11.40) but somehow managed to still miss it. Cassie and I had exchanged words. Some guy at the bus stop just so happened to mention to me that he was stranded, and when I was trying to work out where he was heading, Cassie just blew up in his face. "You're stranded. Oh well I'm sorry. You're a fucking selfish c**t." His face dropped. I couldn't believe what was going on. He left the seat and walked away, and Cassie just went charging over to him in her floral dress and flip flops, calling him a "fucking c**t" right in his face. He stood next to another stranger for protection as he told her to leave him alone. Cassie would walk a few steps, then just go back and swear at him some more. He then understandably started calling her crazy, and shouting towards me that she was nuts.

Eventually Cassie sat down, though occasionally swore at him from her seat, her voice echoing down Kingston high street. If I weren't so drunk I'd been embarassed. When I tried diplomatically to tell her to ignore the random stranger, she turned against me. It's as though she thought I was taking his side over hers, which I guess I was, but she seemed to think that she was perfectly in the right to be doing what she was doing. Its stuff like this that makes me uncomfortable around her, and prior to this I had already phoned Joel and asked him if I could stay the night. When this was revealed to Cassie, she began to cry. She demanded that I gave her "one good reason" for not staying at hers. She decided that no reason was good enough. Then between sobs, she said "All I want to do is go back with you to mine, put on The Strokes, and it be like old times." I still have no idea what she intended with that statement as we listen to The Strokes every time we're drinking at hers. I didn't know that something that last happened a week ago was long enough to be considered as "the old times."

I didn't have the patience to stay up with her until four in the morning, having the same conversation we had had at the bus stop. Her behavior all seemed rather manipulative, which is how the argument started in the first place. So her reaction to my analysis was indeed manipulative, proving my point. 

Cassie wouldn't speak to me again until last night when she sent me a text as though making an appointment to meet me at Spoons at one tomorrow. I know if I go I'll end up drinking too much again, thus spending too much, so I said I'd prefer not to but I could go to hers instead if she liked. I'm still awaiting a reply.

That night at Joel's I fell asleep almost immediately, and then when I woke up we had sex. When I asked Joel what it would mean, he said we were "friends who have fun." We've had fun twice since then. It hasn't got messy and confusing yet, and I hope it stays that way.

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