Drained...

I want to dive face first into a cheesecake and it’s not even noon yet. I went rummaging around in my computer this morning and came across some stuff I haven’t seen in a while. Looking through it took me back to a time that I thought I was over but maybe not. Dark feelings of being completely and utterly ashamed washed over me. I remember telling Rob about this little piece of my life. When I was done talking he wrapped me up in a huge hug and reminded me that he loved me anyway and he was sorry all of it happened. I have to keep hanging on to that memory to keep from getting sucked too far into the icky stuff.
At work my energy is sucked out of me faster than I can blink upon arriving. I feel knocked down and I can’t stand up again. There is a gap in my day that leaves too much room for meandering thoughts, and guilt trips. In my mind I think I can take on whatever, I can handle any feelings that might come up but the reality is, I can’t. The sooner I can recognize that, the sooner I can move forward. Of course my inpatient self thinks it’s not happening soon enough so I think I’ll eat a cookie…
Work ends and I go dinner with a co-worker. I’ve felt drawn to him since I met him but never got too close, never getting involved in what looked like a complicated life. Until he told me about a habit of his that seemed to carry the emotional weight of my eating disorder did I decide to open up and in return, he did the same.
All through dinner we talked and talked and talked about what it was like, engaging in food (for me) and otherwise. (for him) We talked about all the highs and lows of doing it, coming off of it and the feelings that followed plus the feelings that sparked it to begin with. Stuff came out of me that I didn’t anticipate sharing. He looked me in the face the whole time. He made me feel like a human and not the freak show I often feel like for being hooked on something that should be used solely to keep me alive.
We left dinner and went for a walk. I wanted to walk through Oakland Cemetery. They lock that shit up tight so we walked around the perimeter, stopping to climb up on the wall to peer over the edge. I wondered what we looked like from the street, me in a silk dress and heels, him with shaggy hair, jeans and a fitted button up shirt, looking like we were going to climb over this brick fence.
“What happens if we climb over?” I giggle.
“I dunno. If we get caught we might get arrested for trespassing.” he replied and jumped down.
“We can’t have that now!” I laughed. “I have to work tomorrow.”
“Could you see us calling Monique asking her to bail us out?” he laughed.
I am feeling up for an adventure though. Being with him feels completely safe and comfortable. I guess I’m looking for a rush that will take my mind off wanting to chew on my arm.
The air is stuffy and gross as we walk up and down the street that lines one side of the cemetery. I want to reach out and touch him. I’m too scared of crossing any lines, afraid of his reaction or what I’ll feel. I’ve never felt this before. I desperately want to devour every bit of him. I want to give him every bit of love I have, still dangling out in thin air from being cut off when Rob left.
I don’t do anything though, or say anything. Before I know it, we’re back in the car. We decide to go to the Krog street bridge where all the graffiti is. Once parked we walk down a hill and over to the one spot where it’s ok to paint graffiti. He tells me various stories in between silent moments where all you could hear were the sounds of our shoes walking on concrete under the bridge. It’s tiny little pieces of life like these that I wish I could hang on to forever. Sure the big huge moments in life carry a lot of weight but I think the tiny things should too.
When we walk back to the car we head to Candler Park to Fellini’s. Once inside we talk over lemonade mixed with Sprite. Both of us continue our stories about our “habits”, about how it all got started, what we were like when we were little and so on…I told him about Rob and how I feel I’m shattered into 4,000 pieces and feel some people have backed away because they don’t know what to do with me and it hurts more than anything. He said the same thing about some people not calling him to hang out anymore because he’s fucked up one too many times.
This is the tricky part. How do you love someone unconditionally (friend or otherwise) when what they carry around with them affects the relationship you have with them? I don’t know how to let go of the desire to control him and make him stop hurting himself.
It’s really late when he drops me off at my car. We decide to hang out again soon. I offer to let him stay at my place being he has a long drive home. He declines saying he needs to get back now. I don’t feel comfortable without him next to me all the sudden once I’m in my car. He’s driven off to leave me with all the shit that’s in my head. I don’t want to be alone but I didn’t want to tell him that. I wanted to go to sleep knowing he was next to me.
At home I park the car and turn off the ignition. When everything was quiet the weight of today pushed the tears down my face. I don’t even know why I’m crying.
When I can breathe again, I go inside only to lay awake until God knows when…