A week far too long.
Saturday, 07.20.2013 - 6:57 pm.

This week has been far too long. It was exquisite in a way, of course: I lived alone. I watched a movie every night after dinner, sometimes with a glass of wine, and curled up under blankets. I ate especially healthy and I exercised everyday like I've done since march.

I had little work to do but I got busy with my residence errands and my work contract with the university (!). I'll be working full-time and a little more. Not a problem, I love what I do and the pay makes me feel really appreciated.

Nonetheless, it's been a long week. Andrew flies back in from Brazil tonight and will ride a bus all night to be home tomorrow at 7 am. I've missed him, and it's been wonderful finding myself with all these feelings for him in his absence. We talked everyday, also.

But the real reason for this week feeling like a drag has been the white cat. I've spent my day surrounded by three overly stressed cats and I tell you, it gets to you. Especially when the outsider pees on your bed, then on the bed in the other room and then again in your bed. All of my blankets and quilts ended up smelly and wet, even the mattress. It was horrible. Luckily it happened on a relatively warm day so I had time to wash some blankets. Last night was freezing cold, though, and I barely had enough to get through the night.

Not to mention how all cats are chasing each other, at first playfully but they end up hissing. They run all over the apartment and drop stuff. The white cat roams around and I'm afraid he'll pee somewhere else. But they have their peaks and after going wild they all fall asleep, sometimes close to one another.

Luckily, the white is going to his new home on monday. I wish he had gone sooner but Andrew wanted to see him. I rolled with it until this morning, when I couldn't stand the mess anymore. He knows how crazy it's been and seeing how upset I've been, he is little regretful of our choice of leaving the cat with me (we could have left him at the vet). But we didn't know it'd be like this, no one's at fault. And in the end, I do not regret picking him up. The alternative was letting him in the street where we found him and I'm not ok with that.

Since last night, thoughts of Joseph have been creeping up on me. They came down harder this afternoon, when I watched Lola Versus. Good movie, too close to home in many ways. I was about to cry at the end, like I was living vicariously, but then something else happened and I didn't cry. My heart broke but I felt good for her. Which was pretty much what I was going through when Joseph dumped me: my heart was shattered but I chose to live, to go on, even if I screwed up a little (I don't think I screwed up as much as the main character in the movie). Hell, it wasn't much of a choice, it was more like an instinct.

I feel like I should say more on this subject, but I have nothing new to say. I've been thinking a lot about the details of him dumping me out of the blue and almost inmediately marrying someone else and being happy with her, at least for a while, and that's all. I wish I could say I was better than her for him, but I don't really know. It just hurts, all that he did. I felt so worthless. And then I imagine having him in front of me and I wonder what I would say. I'm pretty sure I'd say nothing. I really have nothing to say to him.

Then I think Andrew is coming home tomorrow and my heart flutters. He's my man, my wingman, my everything. I'd only like a wedding ceremony just to have him in a suit. I'm getting up early tomorrow to wait for him with coffee, cookies and warmth (literally, I'll turn on the heating; it's gotten really cold). I can't wait.

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