Sunday, 10/19/08 - 9:37 pm.
It seems I've had a reason to cry rivers since thursday. That day, I mentioned in my last entry, I finished successfully the therapy with my first real patient, and I was going through some grieving.
On friday, Joseph and I had an ugly argument. While I realize my attitude has been confrontative, I still maintain my point. So does he. It wasn't a fight per se, but we didn't speak to each other most of the afternoon, except for coordination (meet me here, etc.). The ride from and home were silent ones. We weren't raging, it was more like the cold shoulder treatment. That's why I cried that day. More especifically, it was some sex-related thing.
However, that didn't stop him from coming with me to my graduation, bless his soul for that. He was entirely supportive and even seemed to be enjoying himself, taking and being in pictures and stuff. He was hungover, though, so he's in sunglasses in all of them. Not that he took many, not that he took them well. He'd make for a lousy photographer. Still, it was great having him around, and he said at some point that he was glad he'd come.
Now, the reason I cried on saturday, grad day, may make me sound like an egocentric nerd, but it hurt me deeply. See, I was cum laude. When a guy from another career was called to the stage to pick up his diploma, they said he was cum laude. When they called Victor's name, they said he was cum laude. So I thought, hey, they'll say it for me, too.
They didn't. The dean plainly said my name. I was shocked and confused thinking that I'd been wrong all this time, maybe I lost a couple of points, and during my walk through the stage, I just smiled and shook everyone's hand (except for the last guy, how embarrasing). I walked off still smiling, thanking the chaperone who congratulated me. But then I was going back to my seat and I opened that huge white envelope: "outstanding cum laude", it said below my psychology title. I sat down. And I thought, my graduation has been ruined. The only one moment that was truly for me, gone. It didn't even happen.
Some people asked me afterwards. F., my thesis partner, told me she was going to yell that I was cum laude, but she just didn't. Same with Joseph, but he refrained because when he yells, he speaks with expletives. Same with my dad (minus the expletives). Other classmates were puzzled as well. And I walked out hurt, wanting to cry. Feeling, and forgive so much for saying this, ordinary.
What's fair is fair, I thought. And this was unfair. It might have been on purpose, it might have been a mistake (this I believe), but it's ruined. The whole point of giving you an outstanding status is to let people know you're outstanding. And I would've been okay if they didn't mention that at all with anyone, but they did with the two other people and not with me. The first thing that came to my mind was, oh, great, only men got outstanding, no woman. But I did! I. DID! And that fucking dean couldn't check the damn facts.
I took Joseph home (more on that ahead) and when I came to my house, I bawled. I threw away the diploma, I didn't even want to see it. My dad, mom and Nephew #3, who attended the ceremony, arrived home later, and dad said he'd write a letter to the dean, for taking the merit away; it's a protest, even though time can't be rewinded. My sister was raging, and so were my three brothers. I was hurt, deeply hurt. I felt graduation had been for nothing, the thing that made me stand out and be special, anulled.
I try to comfort myself. Honestly, aside from that, all was well. I didn't fall off the stage, it didn't rain, my family showed me lots of love in the form of jokes, hugs, phone calls, cards, a meal and some money. I AM outstanding, it just wasn't made public. It can still get me a scholarship and a few of my classmates KNOW it just wasn't mentioned. Fair enough, you'd say.
But it's not. It bothers me endlessly. They took away my moment, and while I know no one in that ceremony would have cared that much, I did need to hear that. I cared. It's just unfair. I'm convinced it was a mistake, but it's still painful. So do forgive me for sounding like a self-centered nerd. But I needed that, for the simple reason that IT WAS MINE. I worked hard and I deserved it.
Sorry about the rambling. I wonder if I'll get over it. I try not to think much about it and tears don't automatically pile up anymore. But God, I'm so mad and hurt.
Anyway, back to Joseph, when I took him home. We agreed on taking a break. I haven't seen him much this week and when I have, we've ended up fighting. Since I don't want to have sex without protection anymore (and right now, my period is late; I've been really stressed, that's always a factor, but I'm still a tad scared), he just doesn't want to have sex at all. I believed that sex was becoming the center of the relationship, because the moment I said I wasn't interested, he'd say sadly that I wasn't attracted to him anymore.
And I was also tired of the routine. Staying in his house means sexual intercourse, but all we seemed to do now was staying at his house; so, sex was always required. I wanted to sometimes, but without protection, I know I'm being irresponsible. Also, no jobs are coming along for him, he's as stuck as he was in january. And that secretly drives me up the wall, although I try not to tell him so much because he already knows, and telling him over and over isn't going to help matters either. I appreciate that he's always willing to come along to run errands if I ask him, he's still a caring boyfriend. But I'm tired of things not changing.
I was reluctant at first, but he's right. We need a break from each other. It comforted me that he said we had such a strong bond that it would only make our relationship stronger. Right now he's a little distant and it makes me uneasy, but it's the way to go. It's helping me value him even more.
Damn, it's been long. I'll wrap it up here. Plus, I'm burning up with fever. I woke up so tired today, my entire body hurts.
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