On failing Joseph and a night out with friends.
Thursday, 08/27/09 - 10:55 pm.

I wrote the following at work this afternoon:

***

I'm having a hard time with these ups and downs regarding Joseph. I get very encouraging messages from friends -you know who you are- and I try to get the best from what they say. And myself, my self also tells me, I thought you were done beating yourself up about Joseph. Apparently, I was not. And of this, I was warned, too. By W (happy birthday, W!). You'll spend a year feeling like crap. And he told me that in the first months of this year.

I say this is normal...as long as I'm not suicidal or depressed, like, clinically depressed in the way that interferes with my everyday life, this is normal. What a huge loss he was and I'm in constant need to mourn him. I imagine him dead because he's gone and because he's not the person I came to know. I said this at some point, months ago: if I were his friend, he'd treat me differently than if I were his girlfriend. I actually felt the difference a few times when we were still speaking. It was a bit painful.

So, how is it that I failed Joseph? My friend Angel says it's not like I turned into somebody else to let him down. I was always me, but I guess that's the point. He didn't like me anymore, even though I was the same person. It could be that what shifted was just his interests, so no matter who I was, he wasn't satisfied with me. But in retrospective, I see the process. I failed when I couldn't stand up for him before my parents; because I looked at the floor instead of holding his hand when my dad was being rough on him. I failed because we never went out at night (he'd ask me, until he grew tired of my answer), when now it's clear I could have done it, and my parents scolding me for that was not the end of the world. I failed him because I was scared of many things that were only in my head, and I was just too comfortable to fight them.

I did what I could at the time, but truthfully, I didn't do everything I could have done. It was in my capacity to do much more and that's what dissapointed Joseph. It's like choosing being on a wheelchair because standing up would hurt, even if afterwards walking comes naturally (as me going out at night on weekends is natural and even a must nowadays, after enduring a few ugly frowns from my dad). I was who I was then, and he loved me for that. But then he didn't love me anymore for the same reason. And I could very well say "I am me, take me or leave me", but it's a kick in the stomach when he, the love of your life -so far- actually chooses leaving you. It makes you reconsider a lot of things.

Did he ever fail me? He did, many times. The difference is that I didn't consider those failures grounds for divorce. Hey...wow, I just wrote divorce. Hello, Freud. I'll leave it like that; I considered and saw him as my husband and CR says we were married, in a way. I've heard you get a sense of failure when you have to divorce, so maybe all this makes sense. The idea of spending the rest of my life with him was thrilling, and sometimes I'd look around his bedroom and say, "I can't imagine my life without coming here; without him". But guess what? Even if I didn't imagine it, that's how it turned out to be. I've been exiled, barnished. I can't stand outside this place, can I? I have to move on and find a new home.

It's silly, but I'd take being dumped over being the dumper any day. I hate Joseph for not caring about me anymore, for fooling himself into thinking that I'm just fine all the time (he's told CR so). But I'd rather be in pain like this than be the one who causes this kind of pain.

Maybe this episode is running its course or maybe it's because I'm writing from my office, where I have to be emotionally restrained, but I don't feel as bad as yesterday. Maybe it's survival, too. It'd kill me, or I'd kill myself, if I felt like I did last night all the time. I have to do stuff to move on. I'm kind of looking forward to tonight, when a few of my high school friends will get together to say goodbye to my friend Pablo. Tomorrow night may bring a little socializing, too. Maybe I can get a hold of CR, maybe Lighthouse will call me, though I wouldn't count on either. But it's all good, I'll see what I can do to keep myself busy.

I wish Joseph knew all this. But it's the other way around, too, unfortunately: my life is none of his business anymore. I hate that. I hate that he had it so easy after breaking up with me; his dream girl fell from the sky and he got the family life he wanted. His fucking amazing love story, she came right on time to make him reach the ultimate decision of breaking up with me. And I dissapeared. I've found many "coincidences" along the way in this story of heartbreak, that point out at the fact that Joseph got a lot of help from Some Greater Power to get me out of his life.

And the best thing I can reply to this is: "well, what do you want me to do about it?".

***

I just came back from Pablo's farewell get-together. Art's "girlfriend" (on FB) and I sent out invitations to have dinner, but only her, Pablo, another guy and myself showed up. Others would join us later. Wait, let's give her a letter. She's C.

We had a light, cheap, traditional dinner and then headed to a bar I'd always wanted to go to, to pick up Vic and somebody else nicknamed Burned. Then we headed to Pablo's house, which is legendary for hosting a lot of parties for his gang (among them, Cel, Art, etc). When we got there, there were a couple of guys I went to high school with, who were playing in the computer and it was like they lived there. Pablo's house and family is also famous for his hospitality, you see. You play on the computer or on the Xbox or in general you walk around like it's your house; pets treat you like they know you. His family is used to have the house packed.

Being there was hilarious, I love these kids, even if I'm not part of their gang. Good times, man. Pablo is so handsome and awesome, I could just make out with him for the sake of it. I'm sorry to see him go.

Somebody asked C about Art. I see that a lot when us kids from high school get together, which happens to be often nowadays. She avoids the question and gives a rather vague answer. I laugh inside, but I can't quite care any less. My only problem is the shit Art pulled with me, not whatever they have or don't have (I'm praying for one day finding a way to tell him he hurt me). As a matter of fact, she's really nice and I wouldn't mind going out with her some day.

I really enjoyed myself tonight, and as usual, it's great to be driving around with friends. The guys headed from the house to go get drunk out of their minds at some bar, but C and I, and another boys that were around, have to work tomorrow. And personally, drinking is not my thing. And these boys are alcoholic monsters.

At least with the fun I had tonight, I can make it through tomorrow. Friday, finally. Hopefully I'll have some plans by the end of the afternoon. It's the weekend, and no fucking way I'm putting myself through Joseph hell again.

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