I'm waiting for chris and jon to show up so we can go to the science center. we were supposed to meet at 3...and it's about 4pm now.
steven and I aren't speaking again, and it's partially his choice (or his stubbornness) and mostly mine. we haven't spoken since...wednesday? thursday maybe? I lose track.
I think I attract people I cannot depend upon. I can blame my dad for this as a result of his alcoholic tendencies, which in turn has made me attract people like him. the truth is, I have to blame me. I let it happen - I allow people to walk all over me while masking it with an impermeable, terribly insensitive facade that generally indicates "she don't take shit off no one."
lately I don't recognize myself. my relationship with steven is perpetually tumultuous. my job is a series of anticlimactic moments that a year ago I would have said "defined" me. but am I the boring office marm? am I the girl who puts on high heels and kisses ass? maybe. maybe that's just what I've become.
on the short end, I'm waiting for chris to pick me up. I'm waiting for steven to call me. I'm hungry.
lately I've let my thoughts drift to a place that I'm trying not to acknowledge, and I can't help it. I have this irksome suspicion that steven will never want to marry me, that we will drag the wounded shroud of our relationship around for a while longer until one day one of us will finally have the balls to call it quits. then, as soon as we're over, he'll find the person he truly wants to spend his life with and marry her. perhaps I'm not the marrying type.
I was watching that movie with meg ryan and andy garcia yesterday - where she's an alcoholic? - and a lot of what she said reminded me of myself. sometimes I hate myself so much that I can't blame steven - or anyone really - for not loving me. it's such a sad, disgusting form of self mutilation and deprecation. I'm not a victim. victims are boring. sometimes, however, my tortured soul - as kevin called it - makes an unwanted appearance in my life and I don't have the strength to tell it to fuck off.
sigh. whatever. this pity train is getting me nowhere. I'll find myself one of these days and figure out what the hell I should be doing with my life. I know I have a lot to offer, and I know I've got a good head on my shoulders and an even better heart. I'll swim for sure.
it would just be nice to know who's gonna be willing to lug my ass out of the water when I get in over my head.