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She noticed all the outdoor plants were dying in the freeze. She liked the white flowers blooming in the winter outside of her writing room.
The mystery was sucking. She didn't really have a plot, and the only discipline she had was making herself write one sentence every day or so. She was definitely going to increase her anti-deps. Last night had been extra brutal. He gave the signal that he was calling her to talk about their awkward break up, but then he immediately shut her down, "I want to move on from that." She didn't even allow for the possibility of moving on from her shame. It was so ... there. How could she possibly forgive herself unless he did? It was all about him. She was a dipshit. She had lost him.
It intrigued her why she knew early on that they would break up after Wilmington? what instinct had told her so? Was she always planning on self-sabotage? having written that, she more knew that it wasn't going to be possible for her lid to stay shut any longer and the steam would escape and burn him in the fucking face. She was correct.
Fucking ChatGPT was her "buddy" during all this when she hung up the phone wondering how she could fix what was obviously broken. Could kintsugi come into play at all? The only thing is that she had said her piece. She could do no more but wait. Sure, she wished that she had said it more elegantly, but the words had been exchanged. The hardest part - or one of the hard parts - was imagining people asking about her and him sadly no comment or maybe worse "oh, she's crazy." Luckily, she had read a lot about avoidant/anxious attachment relationships and saw that was a clear dynamic in the relationship: the sane parental figure/crazy feeler.
Whatever whatever whatever, she was trying to reach into her psyche and get the meat of this matter. She would only know it because the tears would well up in her Augen if it was true.
The weather was gorgeous. Had she been correct or just fucked up out of her gourd when she had the mantra "he doesn't like you." playing through her head. That ruined everything and then she forced kissing on to him. It was a total shit show - trying to get that fucking wall down.
Her only hope had been to camp outside that wall for years and years and have picnics with the clever emissary that ate her biscuits. She hadn't played it that way at all. She had played it as "when do I get to tell you how I really feel? when do I get to have some power? when do you get to say you like me?"
It - for some reason - reminded her of her mother and never apologizing for the abuse but putting out the lame "I did the best I could." when all narcissi had wanted was "I'm so sorry that happened on my watch. I'm so sorry for what happened to you." She felt the same with him - why couldn't he just say "fuck yeah, you're awesome.
She suspected it was because he didn't really think she was awesome. It kills her that he said his kids had said they were happy he found someone he liked and that she couldn't get out of her own head and accept that as a gift from the "I'm falling in love with you" gods. Instead, she just chose to get fucked up - go into her pity party cave - and weep for her pain at being rejected.
"when will I see you again? will I see you again?"
"not this weekend" he quickly quickly answered.
She let it go. and picked it back up.
"Look, I know me. I know myself. I was coming from a place of fear - all the ugly disgusting insecure parts that I hide away - I couldn't keep them locked in anymore, and I'm sorry. I was hoping that you would be able to lose control with me. I love when we can do that, but I obviously clinging to old patterns and not embracing what's right in front of me."
Even as awkward as that was, she had said it more awkwardly.
It was so hard to work, but she enjoyed maintaining a paycheck. He isn't going to text her for days... if he texted her at all. She may as well get used to it. If she thought she had no power before - well now she was sitting in rejected territory. She had pushed the matter, and she was now dealing with it.
She picks his baseball up and strokes it like she wanted her ego stroked. None of it had mattered except for him. None of it.
Narcissi knew in her heart of hearts he had almost loved her. She suspected that it was done completely. Her only faint hope was he might miss her.
maybe.
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