It gets harder and harder to stick around.
Tuesday, 01/15/08 - 9:34 pm.

I walked out on Joseph this morning. Here I was, all excited to do a new activity with him, which was painting his bedroom. First disappontment, even though it's minimal, it's that he painted the walls white. Like it was before. White. Boring. But I guess that's the color his mom got. Still, boring.

I got to his house and I found him asleep. I knew I would, so I sat on his bed, let him know I was there, and waited for him to sleep in for another five minutes. The five minutes passed for about six times. I could've woken him up again, but just that morning I'd been thinking that, what I loved about the stage of life I'm currently in, is that I get to sleep in a little. So I thought "hey, poor guy. He went to bed at 3 am (he told me in his brief state of consciousness). I understand his need to sleep a little more".

But it started to get to me. I left his bedside and went to the bathroom. To my own surprise, I started to cry. It wasn't that he kept sleeping. It's...that he always is. I don't know, I'm so deeply dissapointed. He doesn't do anything, he doesn't care, he doesn't try. He just spends his life in his bedroom, maybe waiting for me sometimes. I don't know how bad is it that he feels, I know he's tried many times and things don't turn out his way. So he gives up. And I know he also gets bored easily with everything. His last project, selling some health program, crashed down. Just a couple of months ago he kept going on and on about how cool it was and nearly put me down for not wanting to join him.

While I was crying in the bathroom, I took the decision of leaving. It took me a while to come out, because I didn't dare to do that. It was really hard. I've never been the person that walks out, hangs up abruptly, etc., especially with Joseph. I've never done such thing, even when I'm raging at him and feel like doing it. I cried harder at the thought of leaving like that. But I kept asking myself, what for? Why stay? Why bother him? What's the point of even telling him? I already have, many times. He knows.

So I grabbed my stuff, looked at him once more, and walked out. I debated whether at least let him know I was leaving. But I was too upset to care. In the car I feared I'd regret soon what I'd just done. So far, I haven't.

I wonder how he took it. He hasn't contacted me. For a while I thought, even hoped, that he'd come to my house. Or that he'd call. I think that, if I do know him well, he's feeling terrible for keep doing this; he knows I try to be patient with him yet I wish things were different. But then, maybe he just thought I was being rude; or he won't realize it's not today what made me mad, but how things have been lately. It's just little things, but they keep gathering, and now they DO matter. We're stuck. I don't care if he says he's the one that's stuck, it's still trouble for our relationship.

I try to support him unconditionally, I swear I have, up until today. I know he doesn't need to be judged, he gets enough from other people...but then what does he need? I'm tired, and I guess there's not much for me to do. I don't think I can help him, but he doesn't want to help himself, either.

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