Tuesday, 04/03/07 - 9:58 pm.
Yesterday was an emotional rollercoaster for me, beggining for no reason. Well, I was upset, I was feeling trapped because this is a vacation week, and my family had no plans and I wanted to go somewhere. And I wanted Joseph to stay with me, but he's going to the beach tomorrow until sunday (I would never say anything, though, because I left for Houston for two months). I'd have liked to go with him, but he goes with drunk friends, and my parents...I'd rather save the scene.
Then I got really angry, for nothing! And I mean nothing. I was thinking of this and that, and I was annoyed. Then my dad and his after-lunch complaints got me even more annoyed. And something that Joseph had said (that was nothing, really), and I was remembering some attitudes of my friend Michelle that make me want to punch her in the face. And after being upset, I got sad and I started to feel desperate.
And the last straw was talking to my mom, about my dad. You know, I always saw all these clues, but it's just this year that I've realized what a lie my parents' marriage is. My dad suffers from pathological jealousy, my mom told me yesterday. I always thought that she didn't go out much because she didn't feel like it, like me. But my dad can't see her with anyone, and he's forbidden her to go places. And he's a bore and takes her to crappy places, where all he does is talk about politics and his family feud. Sometimes they go out with friends, but it's not frequently.
She says she's ok with what she has: house, family, what she did throughout her career...and if she's found peace, and I know she has, more power to her. But it hurts me that my dad turned out to be like that. She says he's still a good person, father, husband. I'm not convinced about the third. He's written her poems, and once I found them feeling each other up, but that's not a lot. All I see, when it comes to showing affection, comes from my mom. And not even a romantic deed, just preparing him the meals and putting up with childish behaviors he has, like when he gets a stomachache. So after that talk, I felt like crying even more.
I took my mom to rent movies with me today. She chose "The Break-Up", and I thought it had something with her. Then again, I've probably been reading too much about psychodinamic therapy and its theoretical basis this week.
Joseph came to pick me up at 7 pm and saved me from going crazy. My sister was home, and she greeted him by kissing him on the cheek, and she was her usual nice self, which I deeply appreciate. My mom came out to wave at him, too.
We had dinner at some restaurant, but most of the talk was about that I was this or that. I didn't it take it badly, because he never critices unless he has an advice on how to get better, and I knew all that, anyway...actually, I'd been beating myself up the entire day for things like that. But his whole point was that I seriously needed to learn to stand up for myself, and I need to find something that brings out passion in me. Yes, yes. I told him about my mom, also. I was holding back the tears all the time.
The food was horrible, but he left the tip under the tablecloth. I thought that was cute, and I wish I'd seen the waiter find it, but we took off before he cleaned up the table. We were going to see a movie, but we ended up at his place. He gave me the choices. I chose spend time with him, the two of us without any distractions. It's what I needed, and it was cheaper.
I cried there, on his bed. For everything. Out of anger, sadness, self-hatred, worry, realization, fear, and the guilt of getting a scholarship after I graduate, and going abroad. God, that's killing me, I don't want to leave Joseph behind. Discussing that was the worst. Well, we weren't discussing. He was just listening, with watery eyes. He'd never ask me to stay.
Somehow we managed to overcome the bitterness. So let's get happy for a while. We did two new things, during our bedroom time, that I didn't think would ever endure. And it wasn't unpleasant! Joseph was shocked, because one of those things is apparently the most painful of the intercourse. I think it's because I was very sick as a child on those terms, and so I got used to it...and that sickness would also account for the anal-retentiveness of my personality. But anyway. We had a lot of fun. He said he wished he was married to me so we could have those kind of laughs every night.
And so I thought, hey, we should get married before I leave! That's what my brother did when he got the scholarship and was leaving for Spain (but it was a fiasco and he never left). He got married to his long-time girlfriend, so why wouldn't I do the same? He said he was up to it.
See, Joseph is my life. And on the outside, my daily routine, one may not see it, but he's changed a lot in me, for the better. I've always appreciated life, but he's made me enjoy it; he's made me go out and live outside school and home. I can't conceive a life in which he's an ex. This morning I was thinking about my proposal last night, and I realize it could be a lot of trouble, getting married and then me going away. There's a lot to think about. But I haven't discarded the idea entirely.
This morning, also, I was thinking about two things. First, my playing as a child, and that's because I've been reading about the importance of playing in child psychotherapy. I've been remembering how much fun I had, my toys were always Polly Pockets and the like, never bigger than my thumb. I built houses, families and cities, and my stories always revolved around their life. My family once got me a set named Meow Meow Wonderland, it was the coolest thing ever; it was an amusement park, and it had a family of cats, a mom, dad and four kitties in overalls. I still have some of the pieces. The kitties are about one third of a finger!
But I was also thinking about sex. I'm back in touch with Veronica (aaww), and a few days ago I was telling her about this, how I think my fear of rape has interfered with that aspect of my life with Joseph. It scares me to have him on top of me, even though I trust him 100% and I know he's not going to hurt me. I've been remembering a game I once played with a girl (I don't remember who she is), and similar stuff I did as a child...but I don't know. She said the same thing as Joseph, I should probably get help. It'd be stupid, though, because nothing has really happened. It's just a fear I have, and I've let it take a huge part of me. Ok, ok, it also scares me to find a certain memory, be it false or true.
I still feel bad. Sometimes I wish I had a real problem and I could throw glasses at a wall and stuff, and stop bottling things up, and stop thinking so much about the consequences of exploding. The guilt of getting a scholarship is killing me, did I say that already? And all the times I could've stood up for myself. And I feel sad, just plain sad, and I want to cry.
I had a different entry in my mind, one that could really show that I'm going through a very existential phase. I'm thinking of my parents, how tired I am of my present and how scared I am of the future, and the memories I've been recalling (nothing tragic), and how I hate myself for possibly leaving and hurting Joseph. Last night I told him that I wanted to die, I wanted to die in a car crash or something. I know, be careful what you wish for. I'm so sorry. It's just that I feel so impaired.
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