the week from hell

it really has been, or i wouldn't be blogging from work. i know i shouldn't call it such when little (or grand, actually) things like a glance at the hopkins sky on the short morning drive to work have saved me time and again from going off the deep end. emphasis on the word end.

and about that word. i'm not on the best of terms with it. the last time i tried to end something significant, it was with very good reason. but i was weak and let things seep back in under the closed door until i was happily swimming in an alice-esque pool of tears. okay it wasn't a pool of tears, but that made a nice image. now all i need is a lorry and a white rabbit.

i love k more than i thought i could. i know him better than i thought i would. but in as many ways as being with him has been great, it's been bad for me. he thinks that because he hasn't always gotten his way that i am just fine at saying no to him. i counter: why do i always have to say no about a hundred times, and for the simplest things? why do you expend so much energy making me feel bad for being myself - and by that i mean, needing space instead of coddling when i'm in a bad mood, occasionally needing sleep more than sex ... etc. i am rushing to finish this because i have to face the last day of the week in about two minutes.

the kicker should have been that stupid f'ing party, which was completely within his right to do but since it bothered me so much i should have done something about it THEN. because if i had, and/or if i had stuck to my guns about taking christine out four times in the same week one particularly bad week, we would not be here. i would not be teaching through anxiety attacks. i would not regret leaving my ex for this venture. i would not be wondering what is left, if anything is left, and i would not be standing here with the question of my life: ... will we stay friends? when i ask you to go, will we stay friends?