Kalamity K

The Daily Chaos of Kalamity K
2005-12-05 01:31:36 (UTC)

I hate the weekends

I hate the weekends. I hate them even more since I
started living with someone. They are never restful like
they should be and more often than not by the time Sunday
rolls around, I'm ready to tear myself apart or am
depressed as fuck and actually craving going back to
work...where I hate myself, my job, my lack of career and
get depressed as hell.

I think I am a demanding bitch. I must be.

He says I don't listen. I think he's right. In fact, I
know he's right, because I treat his opinion like it
doesn't matter. I would justify why, but no matter what
the reasons, it is unjustifiable.

I think he doesn't listen. I think I'm right.

I want and I want and I want and it will never be good
enough. Not for me. Not for this bitch. The reasons for
today don't even matter. They don't matter b/c they are
but an excuse to act like a spoiled little fucking brat,
throwing an extreme hissy fit b/c she doesn't always get
what she wants.

Nothing will ever be good enough for me.


And by the way...is it possible to go crazy because a
person isn't having enough sex? I think I live with an
asexual being. I, however, am not an asexual being. And,
apart from everything else, it's making me nuts. I can
only do so much on my own. God damn it. I thought, last
night, for about 15 seconds, that I might have had some
luck in that department, but those hopes were short-
lived. About 15 seconds should lived. If that. And
besides. We have no latex in the house. Because I am not
buying any and it never crosses his mind. And here I was
so naive in thinking guys constantly thought about sex.
I've found the only guy on the face of the earth who never
wants to have it. It's pretty hilarious, because he says
I'm beautiful and sexy and this and that, and that he is
still passionate about me and that he loves sleeping with
me and whenever we have sex, he wonders why we don't do it
more often... (And, for the record, I doubt I'm even
averaging once every two fucking months!)...but you know.
I guess the fucking XBox takes priority. I know I'm not
approachable. I'm probably not attractive to him any more
because I'm so fucking fat - but I'm supposed to listen to
what he is saying and he's saying he's passionate about
me. [-fights tears-] Incredbly passionate...I barely get
a peck on the face during the day, let alone anything
else. We barely touch each other. Even accidentally.
And I won't come on to him, paradoxically, because I'm not
interested. I'm not interested in fighting the XBox for
him. I'm not interested in being rejected. I'm not
interested in sleeping with someone I think doesn't care
about me in that way. But I'm supposed to listen to what
he says. But I don't see how he can say that and mean
it. I just don't. He says he wants me to initiate more
often. My god...I would if I thought it would lead any
where. I used to be a girl who said things didn't always
have to end in sex...but now...our physical contact is so
limited...we sleep in the same bed but barely even come in
contact there by accident!...that if it doesn't end in
sex, I'm not interested. Sometimes I go to him and give
him a kiss on the head or something when he's playing, but
he doesn't stop. He doesn't seem interested. For
christ's sake, half the time I sleep with no clothes on. I
know I'm not all that responsive when I'm woken up but
what guy has a girl sleep naked beside him and come onto
her has infrequently as he does? I know I duck his kisses
and stuff a lot, but it's hard for me to get it right when
I'm tired...and I don't like being breathed on, but he
knows that...

I'm still attracted to him physically, but it's waning.
It's waned a lot...and not it's only once in a while that
I really crave his body. It's more often when I'll look
at his face and think he is quite an attractive guy and
then want to be closer with him...but it's waning, just as
everything else is waning.

Are we really going to drag this out right through the
dregs? I've said it a million times...every time I think
I can live like that, I go nuts. I have so many competing
forces in me that say to just end it, that then get
countered by all the many (good) reasons I shouldn't end

But I don't want to live like this. I hate it. It
clearly is doing nothing for me. And shouldn't that be my
primary concern? He says he's happy. Happy enough,
anyway. He does admit he's not happy with everything.
But he's happy with me. But if I'm not happy, shouldn't
that be what I'm worried about at this point? Because
isn't it pointless to expect someone who is more happy to
be concerned about and able to change why I am not happy?
It doesn't make sense, b/c changes might make him less
happy. Why would he do that? I don't change when it
would make me less happy. (Who am I kidding? I don't
change, period.)

I ran out of the house and went for a long drive earlier
and in the midst of my binging and fury and everything
else that was going through my mind, I wondered where I
coudl find a male hooker. Christ, forget it, I'll take a
woman at this point. I don't care. I'm desperate.
Desperate! Does anyone hear me? DESPERATE! This just...

It shouldn't be like this, should it? I mean, in
general. If I'm this upset all the time, it really
shouldn't be like this, should it? The whole world can't
live like this. This is just horrible, in a very upper-
class bourgeois kind of horrible. The kind of horrible
you can luxuriate in. I know it's not really horrible.
But it's how I'm choosing to describe it.

I just really don't think it's worth it. But...yet...I
can't find it in me to hurt him or break his heart. I
know I don't give him nearly enough credit, but when I
think about it, all I can see is how hurt and sad and
vulnerable and...almost helpless...and hapless...he could
or might be.

He would be devastated.

But he would get over it.

But I worry about whether he would get over it fast enough
or find someone else, or if he'd blame me for ruining his
life, for uprooting him and bringing him to a country that
isn't his. (I really love that HE moved for me, since
it's so often the other way around, although...it was b/c
he was more mobile at the time...) He's sacrificed a hell
of a lot to be with me.

But now we can't seem to sacrifice just a little bit more
to make us both as happy as we could be. I know it
doesn't seem like it from what I'm writing, but I really
don't think we are all that far away from being really
fucking good together. But in some respects, we are so
far from being able to be really fucking good together
like we used to be that I don't even know if it's worth it
to keep trying to bother about it.

I know I don't give him enough credit. But when I do give
him credit, everything gets twisted up. Giving him credit
for sticking with the headcase that I am becomes, well,
maybe he didn't stay b/c he needed me. God, NO ONE needs
what I put him through. And on and on and on it goes.

I don't know.

I don't want to think about it.

Not feeling all that great from the stupid mix of crap I
ate earlier, either.

And even though I have my music up louder than normal, I
can still hear the fucking XBox.

Come on, CJ, turn off your XBox and come back to your
girlfriend. I know I was unresponsive and sullen and that
you tried talking to me and I just curled up on the bed
and refused to look at you let alone answer...but
please...turn off your fucking XBox and come prove to me
you still have that fire in you that you claim. I see it
all the time with your games.

Maybe if I were a game...the K2 game...maybe then you'd
want to play with me...

[-suddenly collapses in a flood a tears and leaves-]


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