I've started and
stopped this post like five times now and I just end up losing the energy to
finish it... It's going to be a long sort of cranky ramble so feel free to skip
this one.
Drummerboy wants
nothing more than friendship. I can understand that. He's got a lot to deal
with and the next few months will bring more crap to deal with. For example, in
July, his older son gets out of jail and will be moving in with him, and
possibly so will his son's 2 small children. I cannot imagine Drummerboy is
keen on the idea of potentially having to introduce his son to a girlfriend who
is the same age as said son.
He did stress
that he does not want to lose me as a friend, and doesn't want to hang out any
less than we have been, but would understand if I decided to stop spending time
with him.
I really DO
enjoy spending time with him. Do I want more? I don't even really know. My
emotions have been a jumbled mess over the last couple of years, and what with
all the medications I currently take, half the time I don't even know what
emotion it is that my brain is trying to communicate to me.
So I take
another sedative until I can't hear it anymore.
In other
news.......
Dreams are a
huge pain in my ass.
I almost called
my guitar teacher at 5.30 AM this morning because I had a dream that his house
burned down and he died and I woke up in a blind panic.
I settled with
texting him at around 9 to ask him something unrelated to dying in a fire, just
to make sure he responded.
(He did; he's
fine.)
But now I'm
anxious about it. What if it's some kind of premonition? I've lost count of the
number of times my prophetic dreams have come true, but it's kind of awkward
telling someone to please be careful of fire and maybe check your house for
potential fire hazards without sounding like a raving lunatic.
I also know the
logical/psychological side to a lot dreams. Fire in one's dreams is often an
indication that you feel your emotions have gone out of control.
Emotions as I
have said before, are a huger pain in my ass.
Confession time?
[I have not told
anyone about this at all ever, and I have tried to keep it bottled up, but I
really need to get it out, even if it's just on the internet.]
For about the past year, I have had a GIANT crush on my guitar teacher.
Not even a crush
if I'm honest. Like more of an
I'd-marry-you-immediately-and-have-like-ten-of-your-babies roller coaster of
emotions.
Don't get me
wrong, I really like(d?) Drummerboy, and I was praying that spending more time
with him would help with this, but as yet I would drop everything and run off
with my guitar teacher to any location of his choosing. Like for reals, I'd
even stay living in Bergen County if he asked me to. However, he is F**KING
MARRIED. Happily married. So I have held my silence and kept my emotions at bay
for a [torturous] year.
It does not help
that we spend 30+ minutes of my guitar lessons just waffling about Game of
Thrones, the Walking Dead, cat stories, etc. It does not help that he makes me
laugh a lot. It does not help that he is now one of the biggest fans of my
books and in the last few weeks has somehow bullied like 20+ of his friends
into buying them and liking the facebook page. He also beat everybody to
getting a prize for reviewing Westley & the Witches.
I know the
obvious solution. Get the hell out of this situation. Find a new guitar
teacher. Try and forget.
The problem is
he's a really fricking awesome teacher. I know he will never be more than that.
And my hour+ spent there every week is like therapy.
I just don't
know. I haven't been eating very much.
The zoloft gets upped next week, as does the xanax. Next stop, Bergen Pines and a haloperidol drip. ......that actually sounds like a glorious vacation.
In the meantime, I shall continue binge-watching Vikings and playing Vikings Bingo.
