Saturday, May 31, 2008

My very own soap opera

I'm sitting here, at this seedy back-alley internet "cafe", hiding.

My apartment situation is best avoided. It's my own doing, or undoing as usual. He, my flatmate, started off fine. A nice guy, just not the kind of person I like to spend vast amounts of time with, or even any time really. A salesmanny bloke, pot head, mid-forties, never leaves the telly- in fact, the first thing he does when he wakes up in the morning is yep, switch it on, loud. That noise to me now is like fingernails slowly screaming down a chalkboard.

I can wish I was more tolerant, but I'm just not.

The pros, the room is dirt fucking cheap. The cons, the dirt. He does like my kitten, which elevates him in my eyes, but he's a little too attached. In that now he seems to have taken a possessive stance, and keeps warning me (joking- but with an odd tone for joking) that if I ever leave, the cat won't be allowed to. He's also taken to buying shit for the cat- a 60 dollar monstrosity of a scratching post, special bowls, ultra-expensive cat meat etc.

Presently, he's moping around huffing and puffing, sighing, cursing, depressed. And I know why.

He depressed because of me. Because of two stupid, drunken nights, one with e thrown in for good measure, when I shagged him. I feel sick to think of it, let alone admit it. I don't know why I did it. I don't have a clue. Why would I sleep with someone I'm not remotely attracted to? He was there. Saying yes was easier than saying no. The empty feeling I don't know how to fix without drugs. I'm an idiot. I'm trying to feel something again. I'm a dirty whore. Bad excuses really. I think I'm just weak.

If it had just been a shag, something fun, move-on, forget it, that wouldn't be so bad. That's what I wanted at the time. But it's my bloody flatmate for fuck's sake. And worse, someone I know is lonely and craves love, a girlfriend, a family. And here I am, ready-made to slot into his dreams. Again (like with so many men) it's not so much that it's ME, it's the idea of me. There is no such thing as strings-free sex.

I don't have the internet at home, as I'm planning (surprise!) to move out as soon as I find somewhere okayish, and I can't write this sort of crap at work, hence my long absence. My month trial is over already, it feels like a week. I was not in top form. Chronically tired. Weak, self-hatred filled moments of shooting-up in the bathroom. Late. Foggy-headed. Ineloquent. But I guess my good spells outweighed the dodgyness, because they didn't seem to notice. I'm on fulltime forever now, with a chunky raise to make my salary even more silly. Now I just really need to learn to save, and feel proud of myself.

It's nice to unscramble my thoughts and put them down for you out there. I've missed it. Hopefully you'll hear again from me soon.

Thanks for sticking around.


Blogger Erik Donald France said...

"There is no such thing as strings-free sex."

All too true. Thanks for posting the truth! I've learned this the hard way, including through two marriages that would have been better undone given I eventually felt compelled to exit both times.

Propinquity is a double-edged thing, for sure. Good luck on the new work schedule and salud ;->

3:33 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Maybe it was that last Honey post that made us stick around :o)

I have wondered though quite recently; why have i been reading this so long???

I was going through deleting out bookmarks and noticed the date when i first bookmarked you. 2 years ago and by God that seems like such a long time ago. I even remember so many posts it seems.

I just got back from L.A. Drove 12 hours just to get some dope. Great dope, hated myself for it.

What an undescribable emptiness, with memories stuck to spider webs and nothing can fill it anymore. I hope you will find something to fill your abyss Tui. Love would be nice, you always seem so much more optimistic when you are in a romance.

Here is to hoping it will pass for you. You have a full time job now, hurray!!!

Was he any good???? The flatmate that is, or would that be kinda kissing and telling :o) Shagging the roommate is definitely not a good idea, well unless Brad Pitt decides to stay for a week or three. I am sure it seemed like a wonderful idea at the time. So good for you, but hit the newspaper apartment ads. Just in case he gets weird.

Nice to see you back, i know you dont like it but i worry. I know it does not make sense to worry, you always seem to come through alright, but it makes me feel good to feel like that.

shaun "faithful blog stalker"

11:07 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

hi tui, now that shaun mentioned it, i wonder why i read your blog. i started reading right when you started writing. i was never an addict, but i guess i can relate to feelings that you describe so directly and honestly, and that is why i always come back. :) i also think it's these feelings that keep you alive, no matter whether you are clean or not.

since i started reading you i refrained from offering any advice, and i have no solution for your current situation either; in my experience self-loathing can be both destructive and motivating, it is what you make of it. but you know that already. good luck! xx

6:33 AM  
Blogger Michelle's Spell said...

Hey Tui,

So good to hear your voice again! I'm sorry about the situation at home -- that's the terrible thing about sex. I've always found that it isn't casual for at least one of the parties involved and then you have some nut around forever and ever. Not that I would know . . . :) Seriously, it'll be good when you get your own place and take your sweet little kitty friend and RUN! If the dude is already purchasing kitty posts, it can't come a moment too soon!

9:41 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Okay Tui, I toured the web for some ideas on how to get him to keep his distance :o)

Buy him a bottle of Penis Enlargment pills.

Paint a tunnel on the wall like they do in cartoons. Every day, hit your head as you attempt to crawl through it. Hold your head and grumble, "I'll get that pesky road runner...."

Watch "Psycho" every day for a month. Then act excited every time your roommate goes to take a shower

Sit and stare at your roommate for hours. Bring others in to join you. Eat peanuts, throwing a few at your roommate. Then say, "Boy, these zoos just aren't what they used to be."

Draw a tiny, black spot on your arm. Make it bigger every day. Look at it and say, "It's spreading, it's spreading."

Lock the door while your roommate is out. When he comes back and tries to unlock it, yell, "Don't come in, I'm naked!" Keep this up for several hours. When you finally let your roommate in, immediately take off all of your clothes, and ignore your roommate.

Hit your roommate on the head with a brick. Claim that you were trying to kill a mosquito.

Keep a tarantula in a jar for three days. Then get rid of the tarantula. If your roommate asks, say, "Oh, he's around here somewhere."

When your roommate comes in, pretend that you are on the phone, screaming angrily and shouting obscenities. After you hang up, say, "That was your mom. She said she'd call back."

Talk about your exes, give him all the intricate details.

Burp and fart regularly. Blame him.

Keep talking about his best friend’s butt, which is so round and delicious.

Keep talking about his sister's butt, which is also so round and delicious.


4:34 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

It's funny that you posted again so recently, because this is how long it's taken me to try the honey thing. My face is very slowly, very sweetly oozing with it as I type.

You're welcome for sticking around.
Thanks for coming back.

4:53 PM  
Blogger EMOB said...

Just glad to see you around still! :) Hopefully you'll get your own place soon and be rid of the creepy flatmate.

1:02 PM  
Blogger Enemy of the Republic said...

Your flatmate sounds like a few husbands that some friends of mine have. I haven't been blogging much myself--very easy to get busted at work, and I just got tired. But girl, keep blogging--you are honest and real--I'm glad to see you.

9:48 PM  
Anonymous mary mary said...

Burp and fart regularly. Blame him.

Sit and stare at your roommate for hours. Bring others in to join you. Eat peanuts, throwing a few at your roommate. Then say, "Boy, these zoos just aren't what they used to be."

A laugher those are~

Just may work too.

Take the cat and dash..don't run right onto a hot tin roof. chances are he won't follow.

6:37 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Good to see you're still around. So am I, although my blog (heroindiaries) has been silent for far too long...

Anyway, I'm still reading.


10:03 PM  

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