One small, simple task, and you managed to screw me.
Thursday, 11.18.2010 - 6:41 pm.

CR calls me this morning. Small talk, then:

- CR: Your movie has been delivered.
- Me: Why, thank you!
- CR: But, um, there was a situation...

He babbled about making sure the letter was in the DVD case when I gave it to him, and it never left the case but it wasn't there and it wasn't in the bag where the DVD was and...yeah, it wasn't anywhere. Anywhere!

- CR: I gave him the explanation you gave me but yeah, he didn't get it.

What explanation?! OF COURSE HE'S NOT GONNA GET IT! Everything was in the letter!

I got this urge to throw up coming from the very bottom of my guts. I was angry at CR for RUINING it all! All he had to do was to take care of that package and deliver it in its entirety so I could break down Joseph's denial about him shredding me to pieces and then move the fuck on with my life.

Aside from the throwing up, I was pissed off. Wait, in caps: PISSED OFF! At CR for putting me through this humiliation of hitting twice when I was already trying to get over the most hurtful and humiliating period of my life. He screwed me. He stirred everything that finally had fallen into place in my soul about Joseph. He took away every bit of strength that this kick to Joseph had.

I was at work. I was fuming, I was about to cry. I wanted to kick stuff, to punch CR. Most of all, I hated Joseph with every atom of my being for putting me through a devastating break-up and then not giving a shit about how he left me. I could picture him just taking the movie and saying "oh, well", maybe even chuckling for having such a neurotic ex. An image worth a thousand words? Fuck off. Without words, the image loses its essential meaning. All he saw was the return of a movie he once gave me; he doesn't understand why I gave it back.

Thank God my friend Angel was online and let me vent all I needed. After a while, I felt better. I also felt better because I chose to focus not on Joseph's possible reactions but on what I could do about this horrible turn of events.

For starters, I keep the letter in my e-mail account. I was planning on posting it here the day he got it and only then delete it. So I printed it again. I thought about reviewing it and adding a few things that had come to mind after I gave the original to CR. I left it as it was. It said just enough.

The rest was me being dramatic, like saying I'll always hope he doesn't die before me because I don't want to live through hearing those news...it's true, but he doesn't need to know that and I have to work on that myself: I have no control over who will die first and I must not place my lifetime in terms of his. And just today, this article comes up: Girl Talk: My First Love Died. Excellent timing.

Surprisingly, I was able to go through the rest of my morning giving little thought to all this. Here I was, taming my own thoughts! That's something that my dear V. would be quick to point out as progress. It did help avoiding thinking of Joseph and focusing on how to fix this shit. When I thought about this at all.

When I came home from work, though, I gave myself room to think about it: I say I don't want to hear about Joseph's reaction but I couldn't help imagining him very entertained by all this. I felt so humiliated.

And I remembered something my sister said days ago. She was talking about my Brother #3 and his wife being separated because she's in Spain getting her PhD. His wife endured an exhausting, frustrating job for years and also had a lot of shit to deal with regarding her own family. My sister said that recovering from what she was going through could only be achieved by her taking distance...real, geographical distance.

And it's true. Guess what? I'm typing this in the very same place where I was exactly two years ago today, afflicted over marking the one month of Joseph and I being apart, on what I thought was a break, while watching his online status about falling in love with some girl...some girl, may I add, he was living with. Yes, in the same place, physically: same table, same position. Different laptop, hardy har-har. But you get my point: I feel chained.

And I got so mad. So, so mad. All those things, my sister's words, Joseph's fairy tale for which I was just an obstacle, the realization of me being stuck..."I need to get out of here". All these things came to my head in less than a second. And I started to kick my bed, mouthing JUST GET ME OUT OF HERE, GOD, GET ME OUT OF HERE ALREADY!!!! GET ME THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!!! Just give me the fucking scholarship, send me to Chile, send me to the US, wherever, where the fuck ever, I JUST WANT TO LEAVE!!!

I calmed myself down and tried, successfully, to steer clear from the topic for the rest of the day. I kept working on my thesis proposal (almost, almost), thought for the Nth time about quitting my job in January, and went to the doctor to be told I have a beginner's carpal tunnel syndrome.

On my way home from the doctor's, I congratulated myself for not giving this Joseph thing too much importance. And you know, I didn't have to make that much of an effort. I stick to the fundamentals: I have no control over him, he can and he will think whatever he wants; what matters is that I get through with the plan, because the single idea of executing it helped me heal, and so it's worth continuing with it 'til the end, in spite of this horrendous obstacle.

I was thinking of giving CR the letter tonight. I texted him in the morning about it, and the text ended with and you deliver that shit tomorrow, but I called him a while ago and he had trouble meeting up tonight. I will meet with him tomorrow afternoon. I don't like the idea of adjusting to his schedule; after failing me, I could say I have the right to demand that he rights his wrong as soon as possible. But right now my eyes are set on getting through with this and I must be patient and tactful. I'm crossing my fingers that all this will be over by Sunday.

Good news: I was invited to a BBQ party tomorrow night. By a girl who was my best friend in 3rd grade. I haven't seen her in years but we love each other very much. I'm excited and...yeah, thankful. I don't get invited to these things.

I found this quote this afternoon:

I hated every minute of training, but I said, "Don't quit. Suffer now and live the rest of your life as a Champion! - Muhammad Ali.

Yeah, ok.

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