December 9, 2010
As Always, Another Problem Happened
There’s a thing going on with Brer. Not going to get into it out of respect to him. Ask him yourself. The important part is, the end result is that, unlike what was to happen before, he probably won’t be visiting me over Christmas break, and future plans are also now questionable, though not impossible.
It makes me feel pretty awful.
Until this happened I wasn’t aware of the number of silly little things I have acquired over the last few months to share with him when he gets here. But I have. There’s a lot of stuff. It’s all around in here, on my desk and so on. Video games. Movies. So much stuff I bought purely to sit on a couch and share with the guy I love.
I want stability in my life right now, and the feeling like everything is going to turn out alright, but I don’t have that. My thesis as it stands now got a bad, but fair reception. Lots of work to do on that. I still feel like I’m being stonewalled on my transition, something I need to start, preferably yesterday. Now my life with my boyfriend is in question, and I no longer get to show him off to my friends and family and show them all that not only do I have a significant other, but he’s here, he’s awesome, and I have a life, a female life, that I am going to lead and he is part of it. I wanted that so badly. I wanted to be with him. It’s been so fucking long.
I cried on the way back from St. Louis because I couldn’t talk to him like I do every week on the drive. I called up my Mom, and she didn’t know what to say or do. She has to stay distant. That’s okay, I suppose. It’s no help to me, though.
So I wrote this stupid, depressing fucking blog. Bleh.
I promise content the next two days. I have reactions to Lords of Shadow and Medal of Honor that should be showing up. I’m sorry I keep posting stuff like this. I just… don’t know what else to write about when I sit down to make myself. It feels like all I am is sadness. It’s so stupid. Every little 2-player video game I bought for his visit is a reminder of how I continue to fail to get my life in order. It’s just another problem in a string of constant problems, and I don’t know why I keep trying. Some days I really don’t.