Sunday, 02.05.2012 - 4:47 pm.
It's been seven days since I wrote, and every one of them I meant to do it. I've been wanting to write in here so bad, but this week turned out to be hectic, catching up with all the work I hadn't done on my thesis (because I was busy with my master's) and preparing our week-long trip to the island of Chiloe.
Also, I've been offered again the doctorate program in my university, and so has Andrew. That was unexpected and it throws away our plans for next yeard and beyond. At the same time, it's a safe plan. I don't know what we'll do. I don't want to sound like I don't have a mind of my own, but if he takes it, I'll take it. Because the other option is me waiting to become a Chilean resident and apply to doctorate programs abroad...that could take years and I'm not even sure if I could make it. And if it did happen, if I happened to earn a scholarship abroad but Andrew took the doctorate program here, we'd be living in different countries for years. That sounds like breaking up.
Staying here implies that I kiss my clinical psychology aspirations goodbye, that's the career I want. So I don't know. I don't really want to think about all that right now. Andrew is still processing his decision. For him, taking this doctorate program also means kissing his aspirations of studying abroad goodgye. Perhaps we're mostly concentrating on what we're losing, I don't know. I'll leave this here.
I'm not in a good mood. Andrew didn't wake up in a good mood so that eventually gets to me, even though it has nothing to do with me (his mom has a history of clinical depression, sometimes I think he caught that tendency, though in a much less severe level; he doesn't get depressed, he gets cranky).
But it's not just that. You know why I've been dying to write these days? The same reason as usual: Joseph. The entry I wanted to write about and got aborted by the wonderful surprise birthday party I got, was about how I'd decided to get professional help this year, to deal with this. I am not ok. Plain and simple, I'm fucked up. My feelings, my thoughts are fucked up.
Anyone who read this diary would think this diary is all about Joseph, 'cause hell, it is. Or that the break-up and everything after that happened a few months ago. The fact is, it happened THREE years ago. In fact, three years ago, our friend Fer was in a coma, and I almost ran into Joseph and his then fiance� at the hospital. Horrible, horrible days. And let's be honest, I'm not over all that.
I told Andrew very briefly I wanted to see a therapist because some things from the past were haunting me. He said he'd help me find one and didn't ask questions, which I really appreciated. I hate how even when I'm with Andrew, Joseph is invading my mind, and not because I say, "oh, jeez, I wish I was with Joseph instead". I wouldn't trade for anything (or anyone) where and who I am with now. But I think random stuff, like, "why couldn't Joseph have the slightest empathy towards me, why won't he ever understand what I felt like, why did he get away so easily with turning my whole self to shit?".
Miss V. has recently gone through rough times herself and some things she said just hit me. Like:
You respect the people you have cared about in the past enough to give them time to be okay with you going out with someone else (unless you really piss me off, and then no holds barred). You don�t lie about why you do or don�t want to do things. You don�t ignore the person you used to care about. You man (or woman) up, face the person you don�t want to be with and say, sorry, not working for me (Entry).
These are the things I think about Joseph. I'm in this stage of being angry for all the shit he put me through. I know I let him down and I wasn't what he wanted, but I didn't deserve that treatment. I deserved the truth, I deserved to know he didn't want to be with me. I deserved to NOT see his fucking "incredible love story" in development, and certainly not while he had just dumped me.
I'm angry, I'm angry at him everyday. I'm angry at the stupid greeting he sent me on Christmas, and if there was any way to open my brain and measure how I feel and think about that, you'd conclude that this christmas greeting happened last week; it didn't, it happened a month and a half ago. My perception of time in all things Joseph is very, very anomalous.
Today, while washing the dishes from the weekend, I stumbled along the chunk I�m most hung up on: that Chad would �move on� so quickly. [...] I can handle that. It�s rejection, but at least it�s not replacement. (Entry).
It's been three years, soon to be four. I'm ok with the fact that we're not together because we were so different and wanted different things in and from life. But I feel scarred from being replaced, hell, overlapped. It was so heartless.
...man acts as if woman is to blame (because if he were to blame, he wouldn�t be so awesome out with his friends) and woman too acts as if she is to blame (because if she weren�t to blame, she wouldn�t be so un-awesome at home on her couch).
...my thoughts always revolve back to what I could have done differently to make him like me enough. In reality, there�s nothing I can do that will make a person like me enough. It wasn�t because of something I did or didn�t do, it was simply because he wasn�t into it. That�s not my fault, and I shouldn�t shoulder the weight for it (Entry).
I still think I'm to blame for him leaving me. I wasn't good enough, but then again, I'm sure I did all I could. I feel shame, anger, humilliation, deep pain. He went on to have an awesome life, just like that. I have an awesome life myself but what I mean is, when you end a four-year long relationship, in which your partner (me) wasn't really the outgoing person you wanted, but still was fully committed to you and was in love with you and was loyal and wanted to grow up and old with you...you grieve a little, don't you? Supposedly, little Joseph here didn't hook up with her until a month after he told me we were on a break (which for him meant we were breaking up). All bullshit. Either that or he was grieving while he was still with me. And if so, thanks a lot, man: mourning your dead before they're dead.
I have a huge problem. All these feelings bottled up and all I want is to write, write, write him, tell him everything. Victoria, my best friend, asks me, "yeah, and what for? WHY do you want him to know you're feeling like shit?". Yeah, why? I don't know, but I just feel like doing it.
A few weeks ago, I deleted some pictures from my Facebook account. They were all of me, all-dolled-up me, and they were from 2009. You know what they were? A little girl crying for attention. I got attention, yes, but not from him, he was busy getting married. He only replied to the first photo of my tattoo and it sounded like he was the victim. A lot of self-pity on that message, aside from a "yay, you! A tatoo!". Yes, dude, feel sorry for yourself because I just went and got myself a tattoo, after dumping my long-time boyfriend to marry the real love of my life...oh, wait! That's you, Joseph, piece of shit.
I'm overwhelmed by my feelings, and my thoughts are out of control. I think of Joseph like I'd think of a rapist. I know it's unfair (to rape victims) and an exaggeration, but he's someone who stepped all over me in every possible way (I go back to the first time he fingered me and yes, it felt like rape), and destroyed me, and left me broken.
Broken, because three years later, going on four, I still cry at the simple thought of him or any of his shennaningans after he dumped me. He's some kind of a rapist to me, and I, I feel like a person with borderline personality disorder or with post-traumatic stress disorder. All this doesn't translate into anything in my life, I'm a wonderfully adjusted person. It's just my private little hell.
But our bus leaves tomorrow at 2 am and I should go pack. And be thankful to be where I am, because three years ago around this time, I was at Fer's funeral and I heard that Joseph was getting married. Those days are gone. I'm gone, too, from that madness. There's a beatiful island waiting for me, for us. And hopefully there'll be penguins, too.