And so is Elliot. I have no idea what I'm doing most of the time, the other bits of time I am determinedly doing the wrong thing, on purpose, whilst telling myself it will all be fine in the end so this time I have deleted all of Elliot's phone numbers and no, I don't remember them, not even a little bit.
I'm still sick. I'm not getting much better, hardly better at all and I've made the decision that if it turns out that I am after all suffering from something terrible then I will just let it kill me. Elliot says that the Dale he knows will simply rise to any challenge and find yet more reserves of strength but like I said, Elliot is a fucktard.
Elliot feels bad about the shagging, says it won't happen again. Says that its just not working for him because it doesn't fit with his choice to be sober and celibate.
My problem is a very simple one. I accidentally love him. I like the way he stands when he chops vegetables and I want to have him chopping vegetables in my kitchen every day I until I die. He lives in rehab, he is literally living the one day at a time dream, he is determined right down to his last molecule to do whatever it takes to live sober. Whatever it takes is living one day at a time and keeping things simple. Having a relationship is complicated so its just not on his list of options. This is the simple problem.
The cure is more complicated. Whenever I imagine growing older and living in a different house it is with Elliot. My imagined future is Elliot-based or its white void and I couldn't be angrier about it if I tried.
I am the person who has imagined, for my whole life, living and writing and working and doing things all by myself or with a cat. Not once did I dream of a big white wedding. I only dreamed of my book launch parties and how fabulous I would be at my book launch parties but now I have this clouded vision of an emptiness and a meaninglessness.
I have developed a tangible need to be loved. I am now a person who needs to be loved but I am not loved. My family is not a close family, my friends are not the kind that will just come and be with me. I have become lonely and isolated. I did try and fill my life with interesting things and people but the very moment I became ill it all fell away and I lay for days and days without signs of love or care from the people in my life. It is all a construct. When Artboy went mental Boli told me to keep busy, so I did. I enrolled in my community college, went to yoga classes, took guitar lessons, went to poetry things and gigs and arranged to meet friends as often as possible but it was all so constructed. Infrastructure will collapse.
I'm not imagining the possibility of a lonely future because it has already begun. It does not matter if I wear my nicest outfit and feel very happy and throw myself into life. Its like my universe has run out of people to offer me and finally finally I get it. Elliot will not be chopping vegetables in my kitchen and it doesn't matter how I feel about it, its not going to happen.
