the fight

Not sure what I am doing, but this is a moment where Dirk is talking to global4immigration. Which is a immigration company that specialize in helping ppl in hospitality industry in finding a job. Now that he has told them his record history, I am pissing my pants. After we fought before he called, after I told him what to do and then told him what he did was wrong. He called in frustration. These days I don’t know what to do because I know I am schizophrenic enough in my decisions, to involve this type of thinking with him is only torture. Despite me wanting to go find other things to do, like promote my blog of words, or look at avril’s wedding pics on youtube, I find myself back here, with the speakers on full blast so I can’t hear anything. I feel so out of control and I know OCD ppl hates that.

Given that I had OCD and only a mild form now, I am hating this. The music hurt my ear drums with the earphones so close to the drums. But I fear every moment one song ends because that would be a brief silence, a break for the singers, and a moment to make my heart skip a beat. And for those split second I would hear one or two words from Dirk. I’d try my best to identify the tone and its emotions. I kept on wanting the phone call to end to know what happens, but the longer they talk, I know, the better. Because they haven’t rejected him and if they don’t think he is worthy of talking and wasting all these time, then they wouldn’t talk to him.

Then I get paranoid and think that maybe hes just sitting there in sadness over the horrid news. But then the song ends and my heart jumps beats again.

Then one of the song ended, and it was silence, and I wondered if it was done. And dirk said, “steve, done”

* * *

its been nearly 24 hours since the entry above, and although that conversation didn’t decide the faith of our relationship, something else did. Just another fight, but this time on the topic of moving to London. I knew I pushed too hard and I do regret it. And that’s what drove all of this to hell. But in all honestly, leaving it to him might have just resulted in the same thing in a later date, when we find out we wouldn’t go to London together. That will only bring on the blame game. Irregardless, I am sitting at my house, wondering what to do with all these extra time. Its amazing how everything feels so empty and when you are talking near the end of a breakup, I forgot how nothing makes sense and everything that comes out of your mouth is from emotions, and the brain did NOT have time to stop your stupid trap. I know these moments pass and eating with miran, she told me it will get better. And I know it does, as with most things. And that’s great. In the meantime, this is how I feel.