Picking the scabs
Oct. 5th, 2004 08:53 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kjpepper*sigh* It's not good for me, either physically or emotionally. I know this. And yet last night I quite slowly and carefully ripped one from my elbow (blood everwhere... ok, not really, but a fuckload more than what should come out of a wound the size of a pinhead) and indulged in some masochistic picking at one from my soul.
I hate it when he does this. Weeks of nothing, then a grand total of six words that glitter like fools gold because oh hey, I heard from him! but he never says anything at all with what he does say, you know? (Pyrite, not gold.) it's kind of like the alleged negative calorie effect of celery. All that chewing for less than nothing. At least if you're going to drop me a grand total of one line, make it count, or at do something useful and answer a question I asked weeks ago.
Of course, as the lapses of time get fewer and farther between I can't help but think about one of the last things she-who-will-remain-delusional said to me a few months back about how he told her I'm basically his last resort, and that he only thinks about/talks to me after everyone else has been called, every other web site has been visited, all the porn available has been jacked off to, and all the games have been played through twice. I'd like to believe that wasn't/isn't true, I mean he is in the AF, and has been in The Desert since last month so I imagine he's got a little bit more to deal with than keeping up with me. But it just rings a little too true, makes just a little too much sense to shake.
And this the day after I got confirmation that things were, indeed, going supremely well with morlock and sundart and I are finally back on track. Of course.
This would be so much easier if I could just hate him and be done with it. But of course I don't. I don't know what I want from him really. Some sort of penance I think, preferably the kind I can personally carve out of his soul with a spork. Or maybe something more substantial than a three word sentence. But I've learned from experience that that's too much to ask.
I've got to go to work now.
I hate it when he does this. Weeks of nothing, then a grand total of six words that glitter like fools gold because oh hey, I heard from him! but he never says anything at all with what he does say, you know? (Pyrite, not gold.) it's kind of like the alleged negative calorie effect of celery. All that chewing for less than nothing. At least if you're going to drop me a grand total of one line, make it count, or at do something useful and answer a question I asked weeks ago.
Of course, as the lapses of time get fewer and farther between I can't help but think about one of the last things she-who-will-remain-delusional said to me a few months back about how he told her I'm basically his last resort, and that he only thinks about/talks to me after everyone else has been called, every other web site has been visited, all the porn available has been jacked off to, and all the games have been played through twice. I'd like to believe that wasn't/isn't true, I mean he is in the AF, and has been in The Desert since last month so I imagine he's got a little bit more to deal with than keeping up with me. But it just rings a little too true, makes just a little too much sense to shake.
And this the day after I got confirmation that things were, indeed, going supremely well with morlock and sundart and I are finally back on track. Of course.
This would be so much easier if I could just hate him and be done with it. But of course I don't. I don't know what I want from him really. Some sort of penance I think, preferably the kind I can personally carve out of his soul with a spork. Or maybe something more substantial than a three word sentence. But I've learned from experience that that's too much to ask.
I've got to go to work now.
