July 20, 2002 :: 11:53 p.m.
oh, just a disgusting bout of curmudgeonliness
Hello. This entry is being brought to you by myself, of course, and I'm not quite in the best of spirits right now. So don't expect fluffy bunnies or anything.
Just a warning.
After claiming to be too tired to see a movie, Adam went out with Pat. I'm a bit bothered. Not about the fact that he went out with Pat, of course. That's no problem at all. What bothers me is that he felt the need to give me an excuse when I (and he, I think) knew "deep down" that he was going to go out with Pat. If you don't want to hang out with me, just say so.
Me: So do you want to go to a movie tonight or something?
Adam: Actually, Pat wants to hang out and I kind of want to do that instead.
Me: Oh, okay. That's cool. Have fun.
See? That's all it takes. But I suppose my bitterness stems from the fact that he said he was going to call me and he didn't. Again. This is a continuing trend. Am I that easily forgotten? Really now.
Yeah, I probably shouldn't be talking about this here, because all the kids read it. It's just more fodder for the "Amanda's such a horrible girlfriend" mill. Don't deny. I know how you guys feel about me when it comes to Adam and I. Especially Pat, which makes sense considering that he's been Adam's best friend for a gazillion years. It's understandable. I'm possessive and clingy and I expect too much and I freak out about everything. He's too good for me, I don't treat him as well as I should, I'm a terrible, terrible girl and he could do so much better. I should be sentenced to a long, anguished death, I know.
I'm not all mad, contrary to what this entry may convey. I'm just in an odd state. A state of slight disappointment and blurred vision and hands that type without consent and a mind that runs non-stop, always giving birth to more bad thoughts. It's really interesting to be the one thinking them, sometimes. Scary and unpredictable, but interesting none the less. Like [insert simile here because I'm too lazy and incoherent to think of one].
Rufus is going nuts. He's meowing and running all over the place and climbing on the counters and digging through everything. He's chasing Gizmo through the living room as I write this, in fact.
This is Groundhog, reporting live from the field.
I guess I'm just confused. School is starting soon and I'm not sure how I feel about it. I love Adam with all my heart and care about him more than anything or anyone I've ever come across, and it kills me sometimes because I almost feel like I'm sabotaging what we have. I know I shouldn't act the way I do. I know it's stupid and irrational and makes me look like a child throwing a tantrum or a fucking candidate for experimental drug therapy (take your pick), but it's like this vicious cycle. I only get so upset because I care about him. Things only bother me like they do because I actually give a shit how he feels about me and what he thinks of me.
Most people don't affect me, because personally I couldn't give two shits what they think. Every human being on this planet could hate me and want me dead and I'm not sure it would upset me too much. But what Adam thinks means everything to me. He's the only guy who has ever made me feel like I'm worth something, like I'm actually wanted, like it matters to him if I'm happy or sad. So I suppose it all comes down to me, sitting, thinking about how wonderful he is and how much I love him, how glad I am that we're together and how happy he makes me. And then a little seed of doubt and insecurity sprouts in the oh so fertile soil of my mind, and suddenly it's all about how I'm not good enough, not pretty enough, not interesting at all or fun to be around. I ask myself why he's with me and I can't come up with a reason, so I start thinking that maybe he doesn't really care about me as much as he says, because how could he? Who would care about me like that? Why would anyone waste their time on a pudgy chick who's not very attractive or entertaining or possessed of any real personality? I decide that he can't possibly actually love me, and that he's going to find someone so much better and leave me to rot in my own skin and listen to my own paranoid inventions until I break down and drink a big glass of Drain-O for breakfast or something.
Do you see? This is what I do when I'm alone. These are the things I think. And it's all very self-defeating, because if I don't want him to think I'm terrible then I shouldn't act the way I do. But I only act the way I do because I think that he already does think I'm terrible. And so on and so forth, until the end of time unimaginable.
I never claimed to be issue-free, people. But it's insane that this goes on in my head, it really is. I know, rationally, that all of this is crazy talk (at least I hope it is), but knowing that doesn't stop me from thinking it or believing the things I make up. It's like delusion taken to a grander scale. Or maybe it's just like regular delusion and I'm losing my ability to think due to getting very few hours of sleep last night and being somewhat emotionally distressed. Granted, any distress is caused solely by me, but if it looks like a duck and acts like a duck and you hear it quack then it's probably a goddamn duck, no matter what kind of egg it came out of.
I don't know why I'm going on about this. I could go on for days and I wouldn't feel any better. I could write it all down market it as a self-help book, entitled "Driving Yourself Mad for Fun and Profit" and as my book succeeded I'd spend the royalties on some ice cream and sit and eat and get fatter and continue to think about this shit. I've been writing this entry for half an hour and all I've accomplished is spelling out all the reasons why my friends should think I don't deserve Adam in really bright magnetic letters. Yay for me, I can ruin anything. Give me a pound of gold and five minutes and I'll return to you a wheelbarrow full of manure at no extra charge.
I wish I could go through and retract all the things I've done throughout the course of our relationship. Well, not all of it, but the unwarranted freak-outs and shit. If life were a newspaper, mine would be front to back retractions. "On page six of last Monday's paper, we printed an article detailing Amanda's feelings about such and such an insignificant issue. We'd like to withdraw those statements, declare them false and inappropriate, and invite you all to attend Amanda's public stoning, which will be held at Hampden Park, noon, next Wednesday. BYOB - Bring Your Own Boulders!"
So I'm going to go do something other than prattle on about how much I wish I wasn't an emotional basket case/complete lunatic. It's getting a bit long and pointless, and hell, I've got to save some for next time, right?
'Night.
back & forth
Wait, there's more!
I like pina coladas - March 30, 2005
must... finish... projects... - March 22, 2005
Mr. Postman delivers the good stuff - March 18, 2005
when everything is bad - March 16, 2005
of fruits and menstruation - March 15, 2005