Home > Life or something like it > Entry 06/06/2005 09:03:56 PM – Mentat 162

Entry 06/06/2005 09:03:56 PM – Mentat 162


Entry 06/06/2005 09:03:56 PM – Mentat 162

     The new replacement to Doris came into work today…  Interesting accent.  Not sure whether it’s Cajun, French or Patois.  I’m wagering more towards French given the fact that Veronica is an island girl and her accent is nowhere near Lorna’s (that’s her name).  Seems fairly intelligent, but I get the strong sense that she’s already overwhelmed, given than she’s one of those hands on kind of girls that didn’t write all that many notes.  *shrugs*  But that’s not why I wandered into my journal. 

     So, as I was saying yesterday — Will and I were discussing the ramifications of my regrets and his hurt, trying to figure out a way of wanting me in his life as a friend, without going through the aches and pains as I put him through when I dear john’d him.  To me, it was like having one’s cake and eating it too.  And wouldn’t work given my philosophy that one cannot be friends with someone they’ve seen naked, and was intimate with in that manner.  
     In the last week, regardless of my talk with Will, I have come to realize that perhaps I may not be ready for relationships.  But the question that I’ve been thinking about the last couple of days on the way to and from work is — whether I’ll ever be ready for a relationship.  I mean, think about it…  I come out of an emotionally abusive relationship with my last ex.  I find myself in a year’s worth of therapy while I try to work out all the issues his bullshit dug up from my childhood and adolescence.  In the middle of my getting over the therapy sessions and the agonizing that I go through during them, I find out that I’ve been dancing entirely too close to [petty] jealousy, my insecurities in abandonment issues and being used…  And bordering on passive-aggressive stalking in order to talk to Will in order to find out what’s been going on after four days of silence. 

     *sigh*  I should have tried writing this earlier.  I didn’t get much sleep last night, and now that it’s almost 10:30, it’s next to impossible to get my thoughts cohesive enough to say what it is I’m thinking.  Not to mention it’s rather hard trying to sit here working on a journal entry when my cat has decided that my lap is worth sitting in at the moment. 

      I’m not sure what he means by his e-mail, but it does allude that he wants to get back to what it was at some point.  And here I’m still looking at my countdown.  And I haven’t been convinced to change it otherwise.   But we’ll see what he has to say, and then go from there. 

     I’m off to bed.  T-Minus Twenty-One Days… 

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