~Monday, August 29, 2005

The phone call

Today I'm watching Felicity and there's a lot of letter writing. (I spent the weekend watching the Godfather Trilogy and saw enough killing for awhile.) Letter writing seems to be working. The get-back-together M.O. on Felicity is showing up unexpectedly, letting that sink in for a few days, then sending the letter. Deliver it personally and write it on paper to make it tangible, that way he can read it over and over while thinking of you.

I sit on my bed and preface the letter with stupid sayings probably from "Men are From Mars, Women are from Venus." I fucking hate that book. It's just a man telling how men are, and how women need to follow these lame-ass man rules. I want to punch that guy in the face if I ever meet him.

Then he calls. I shit you not. I could barely pick up the phone. I made sure not to sound desperate, sitting on my bed, and writing him some psychologically spewed letter. He said he owed me an explanation for the last week. He said that I'm mean and that the last joke I made was the straw that broke the camel's back. His other example: I once asked him how long he had been golfing. He said since he was 5. I then asked how come he didn't play more like Tiger Woods. I'm sorry but I still think that's funny! Tiger Woods is clearly the exception to young golfers! Come on! Everyone should know it was a joke! So based off of these 2 comments I am mean. He then said that his parents have noticed that he's tense when I'm around and that this makes him think he's not happy in our relationship. I wanted to say that being tense when you're with your girlfriend and your parents is a natural feeling. It makes me half-crazy when I have to do it. But I didn't say anything. I said I wanted to have this conversation in person. He asked why, and I said that we'd been together for a year and I had lots of things I wanted to say as well. His voice softened and he asked what. I wouldn't tell him, partly because I couldn't articulate it very well on the spot. We sat in silence for a minute and he said a business call coming in and that he would call me later.

I hung up and bawled. Now I know he really does want to break up and that this isn't another silly fight. I sat in a tub way too hot (I guess my idea of cutting? Hot water?) and cried it out. Then a wrote a 4 page letter to him explaining the jokes and the parental paranoia, letting him know it was normal, and concluded with how much I loved him. I have never written him a love letter before, I've tried but I never really had anything to say before. Debated with putting my return address on it, included it, and drove to the post office and mail it. He should get it either tomorrow or Wednesday. We'll see if he calls tonight.

While writing the love letter, my mother barges in and we got to have this conversation:

Mother: (in falsetto voice) Dear Mark, I promise never to do it again. Please come back.
Sarah: That's not funny.
Mother: (addressing my dog sleeping at the foot of my bed) How do you tell the difference between us? (pause) I'm nice and Sarah's mean! (Laughing at her own joke.)
Sarah: This isn't helping. It was your idea to write a letter, now you mock me for it!

Haven't looked for a job since he left me, but I am beginning to realize it's the only way out of this house. Right now I'm thinking about throwing away my college degree becoming an airline stewardess.



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