eh.

I feel the need to post, if only to let everyone know that I'm still very much alive and kicking, although what I have to write isn't terribly inspiring. Apologies for all of it.

I went out with M on Friday and had a reasonably good time with him. He's growing on me. I'm still not interested in a relationship with him, but I do enjoy the dates. It's nice to be appreciated for being witty, attractive, and fabulous. I need that right now. I really need that.

A is going to join me for drinks on Thursday.

I guess I'm officially dating again.

I didn't do so well with my New Year's resolution this weekend...I spent most of the day shopping (yuck), going to the movies, and hanging out with friends. My saving grace was going to a new bar with M very very early Saturday morning...got it in just in time. I was fortunate enough to also have gotten a serenade from a drunk punk. It was very exciting evening.

Got a new top on the hellish expedition to the mall. I've finally been able to *see* the weight that I've been losing and that was a positive thing. It almost made up for the ordeal of having to listen to Sacramento's white trash scream and smack their children while watching pre-pubescent Sharika clones make way through the mall mating game. Good times. The shirt is a peasant top--I'm going for the whole Jennifer Connelly in "Waking The Dead " aesthetic, I think it works for me.

In other news, I saw D last night. I know, I know...it's not a good thing and it never will be. The night ended with me sobbing and him holding me. It was awful. I cried all night and all morning. I'm still trying to hold back the tears. I realized that I don't love him anymore, but that the sense of loss is still very large and looming. I hurt so much, but I figure that one of these days I'll run out of tears--maybe, perhaps, that will save me. I'm hoping.

He said some things that I wish that he hadn't. My sobbing started when he began talking about his most recent ex. He looked so wounded when he saw me crying and he said that he mourns what happened too. He went on to say that he thinks about me all the time, that there isn't a week that goes by that he doesn't think about calling me and begging for me to take him back, that he finds himself tearing up in public thinking about me, and that if I could only know what he really felt, I'd be angry but not sad. (Whatever that means.) I told him that I only knew what "happened" and then I left.

I'm so sad. My eyes are swollen and my heart is broken. When will I be over this?

Not so quietly going mad...

I sobbed most of last night, this morning and this afternoon. I wound up curled up on the floor of the shower crying. It was a humbling moment...and a loud one apparently. When I went into the main room of my apartment, I saw a note and a CD shoved under my door. It read:
"I hope you are okay. I've been there. If you need to talk I am here for you, I live at #4 or call me. --Juila"
She also left a CD for me to listen to with another note that read:
"I hope this makes you feel better, it works for me sometimes. I wish I could do more."

I don't know this woman, I can only imagine that she's been hearing me cry...for how long I don't know. And while I appreciate the kindness, I'm so humiliated that someone has been witnessing my grief unbeknownst to me.

I need to call the doctor tomorrow and let him know that I'm sliding into another depression. I need more of those lovely pinks pills to keep me sane...and quiet.