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I wasn't going to post here anymore, but I suddenly realized that I can post anything here and no one except maybe Leah is gonna read it. So, that's pretty great.
I'm waiting to hear back from Grad School. Mason and VCU. They are the only ones I applied to. I should have applied to more, but I was stressed and broke and it costs money just to apply; Money that, late in December, I just didn't have. So, they should have gotten back to me by now, but they haven't. Which I guess is better than a flat no. Anyway, the only wrinkle in this grad school thing is that on May 15th my lease runs out and I need to move. Of course since I don't know where I'll be going to school, I don't know where I should look for a place. I might end up back at my folks for a minute.
I don't really see much point in staying in NoVA if I don't get back into Mason. I'm tired of my job. I can't afford to live here on my own and I don't see Courtney and I getting a place together. She hates cats. Specifically Doom. She's jealous of the love I show him. It's complicated. But we love each other, but I don't think we're in love. Long term, it wouldn't work. But I can't be single while working for NTR, it would just be too hard to deal with. The travel. And the driving by COurtney's house every day because she lives and works next to where I do half my gigs. The constant reminder would just be too much. She keeps saying she is too busy, but also that she doesn't want to meet someone in he bar scene because they're just looking for sex. If we're using each other, at least it is mutual. And we do care about each other. We just don't work long term. And that's something that is going to have to be dealt with eventually.
I think Irene every day. I wish I could justify trying to win her back. But, I realize three things: I treated her deplorably; she is dating someone new, who while he seems lame is probably much kinder and; I should focus only on my writing. The last one is just a personal excuse, but the first two are pretty good reasons.
I tell myself every day that there is a reason that she is the only relationship of mine to go longer than six months. I think about how the only really happy day I've had in years was spent with her. And I remind myself that I really fucked it up.
Emotions are weird. They try and explain them to you, but do such a bad job. Like fear of commitment, that old chestnut. What an asshole phrase. See, I've been afraid. I've been in car crashes, I've had guns pulled on me, I saw Event Horizon in the theatre, I know scary. I was never afraid of committing to Irene. I just was worried about missing out on all the possible other sexual partners I wouldn't get to have. I was greedy. Or fickle. But not fearful.
Also, love is stupid, because love with Irene was calm and placid and nice and actually made me happy; which worked in direct contrast to every other relationship I've had where love is just the feeling you have that distinguishes 'not-fightin' from 'fighting'.
It doesn't really matter though. I'll miss her for a while. I hope I'll meet someone who makes me feel good. I don't think so though. It's something I always find amusing when my friends who've spent their lives in long term relationships tell me it's hard to meet someone. I'm feel like a guy coming off a buffet meeting a man at a hot dog stand who tells me there is nothing to eat. Of course in this metaphor the buffet was Old Country and I keep getting sick off the chocolate fountain...and that metaphor is falling apart in 3...2...1...yeah.
I'm writing again. That's good. Trying to do a thousand words a night. It's not a huge amount, but after work and work outs and dinner and playing with the cats, its a pace I can live with. Hopefully I'll be done by the end of Lent.
Of course I'm sober for Lent again. 28 days left.
That's it for now. I should get some sleep.

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Nemonixon

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