Thursday, March 8, 2012
God I am a flailing dipshit, and I am making this shit up as I go along
I would love to say that my most recent visit to The Arborist proceeded with Augustinian, aloof compassion tempered with logic and restraint.
It did not.
It was a comedy of miscued, misunderstood motives and unexpressed angst.
I did not press my case. Instead, I let it be known that I wished to talk to the man, and let it lie.
And.....there it laid.
Until the last goddamn dog was hung.
Until the stroke of 10pm, when I finally huffed 'I wanted to talk to you, but you obviously don't want to hear it. So, I'm making an early night of it. I love you. Damn, you piss me off.'
And swanned out.
Now, I felt GREAT about this. I haven't felt this good about anything in nearly a year, in fact. I have been so obsessed with this weirdness between the Arborist and myself that it's consumed my every waking moment...and suddenly, I WAS FREE!
I also felt great about the follow-up email I sent to The Meadow Blossom, wherein she tried to smooth things over (on behalf of the poor, suffering, misunderstood, pussy-whipped Arborist who apparently couldnt speak for himself) and I snarled back and used the words 'disengenuous bullshit' and 'sick to fucking death'.
We are a classy group of folks.
And you know what, my darlings? I still feel GREAT about all this.
While simultaneously knowing that chances are really really good that I will never see these people again. And feeling pretty goddamn good about that too.
I am so fucking confused right now.