Wednesday, 09/29/04 - 10:07 pm.
I had a rather emotional evening, and so did Joseph. I think everybody thought we'd had a fight, and even that we'd broken up. My friends said I looked very upset, and many people asked him what was wrong.
We did not fight. But those feelings wore me out, and I really don't want to talk about it. I'm tired, but I must go study for the friday midterm.
I'll just place a post-it, to remind my self of what happened today...of that self that I'll be in a year or so, when I look back on this entry:
NOTE TO SELF:
Dear self: everything was great with Joseph today -as usual-, until he got too physical. Nothing abusive, as you might recall. He just pulled me toward him, not facing each other. I instinctively stepped back from him, and right then I got...down. I put my hood over my head, and I felt depressed, that suddenly.We did not talk anymore, although he kept being his cheery self. I was indifferent, perhaps sad, but it was sudden, even against my own will, and he didn't deserve that.
Later on, before I went to class, he started to get serious and apathetic. The professor never arrived, so after 45 minutes of waiting, he and I decided to go to the cafeteria. And now the both of us were in a horrible mood, serious and silent, but not really mad at each other, as it might have seemed.
In the cafeteria he started to cry...well, he had tears in his eyes. I felt responsible for his state of mind, although he never made it look like it was because of me. He actually told me he was mad at Angie, and even at himself, for a certain things that've happened between them. We didn't say a lot of things, I just held him, trying to say "I'm sorry I infected you with my melancholy", because to me that's what it was...and also that he could think I didn't want him around. He insisted it was something else, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. And I buried my head in his shoulder, because I was afraid of seeing him cry. I would've cried, too, and that'd been worse: I'd be embarrased, and he'd hate himself for making me cry, no matter the reason.
We decided to catch up with for Angie and Fer at the coffeehouse, but when we walked by our classroom, I noticed my instructor was there, so he told me to go and attend the rest of the class (only 20 minutes), he'd meet me after class. Luckily, I could put myself on the list of people who'd attended class (no more than 30...we're about 70, but after 45 minutes of waiting, many -with good reason- left). Extra points, I hope.
I did see him after class, he seemed a little better. He called me at night, at about 9 o'clock, apologizing for making me worry...I said there was no need to apologize, because I understand he was feeling bad. I told him I thought it was because I was feeling bad in the first place, he replied: yes, it could be...I don't know.
He said he thought I didn't want to be with him, when I got all moody. I asked him if he wanted to be with me when he got all moody. He said he didn't want to be anywhere.
I told him to leave everything, to forget about what happened tonight. Not exactly to forget, but just to move on. Tomorrow is another day (duh), and we won't be so emotive and melancholy. And we'll prove the world we didn't fight.
I still want to cry, though.
This could be the closest to fighting with him, because sometimes he'd kiss me and I wouldn't kiss him back. I just wanted to remain still (part of my quasidepression phase). But then I'd hug him, and he wouldn't hug me back. I know he wasn't being a jerk. He wanted to be still, too. We'd just look each other in the eye, with no gestures, just coldness.
Dear self: I think you cried tonight. But I really don't understand what happened, and I bet you don't, either.
Love, your self.
Tomorrow I'll go see how much it'll cost me to publish my goddamn book.
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