So. I feel like a complete asshole right now, and here's why. This past weekend was a three-day weekend. I didn't do much, except have a two-hour conversation with my dad about my sexuality and my mom's twisted brainwashing capabilities and go to my top college's open house, but we'll get to all of that later. Brittany promised we'd hang out this weekend. Well, okay. The words "I promise" were never said, but she made it seem like we would without any shadow of a doubt get together finally, after two months of not seeing each other.
This previous week, I told her more about how I was feeling at the time, though now I must say I feel a bit...better? I guess I just switched from pure depression back to that weird emptiness, but that's still an improvement. Anyway, she responded in a heartwarming way: "I want you to know that I very much care about you and I want to be there when you need someone to talk to. You're in a rut right now and I'm gonna help you through it!" Yeah, we had another mushy moment.
So this weekend goes by. And then, at 9 o'clock at night on Monday, I realized that Brittany and I weren't going to hang out. I gritted my teeth and instantly saw it as a straight-up lie. She lied to me. She said we were going to hang out and I could vent to her in person, and she didn't send me a single text that weekend. I was pissed off at her. I mean really, really pissed off, and that made me feel like shit, being so angry at her. I mean, at least fucking send me a text saying that you're too busy so my hopes aren't kept high the entire fucking weekend and I'm not expecting anything. This isn't the first time she's blown me off. To send a text saying that you're too busy would only take about five seconds of your time, right?
So what do I do with the pure surge of anger? I post passive-aggressive tweets about Brittany. "My feelings are not particularly warm and fuzzy right now." "Here's a tip for you: don't promise me something if you can't follow through with it." I never mentioned her name of course, because social networking allows you to call people out without facing them, right? So after I post said tweets Brittany texts me and asks, "Are you alright?"
I bristled. I gritted my teeth again. No, you fucking idiot. I'm NOT alright. To ask that question so innocently as if you've completely forgotten what you promised is just...I don't even know. So I got short and really cranky with her.
"Your tweets say otherwise. I was just checking on you to make sure you're okay."
"Too busy to hang out this weekend?" I know. I was a complete asshole.
And then she proceeds to explain that she had a psychology project, two band performances, and other college shit. Of course. She also pointed out that I had told her that if she was too busy it was okay, since we were going to hang out this coming Saturday at Six Flags anyway. And then she says: "I'm sorry you feel like I've ditched out on you. I had no idea I was upsetting you so much."
I melted. The anger subsided and I was left with the startling realization that I had behaved in a completely idiotic and douchey way. I was feeling so let-down that I was driven to lash out. So I apologized. She accepted, saying that we're all entitled to our little moments. Wanna know what my friend Katie told me when I told her the story today? "Don't be such a pussy."
Don't be such a pussy. What does that mean? Am I letting Brittany treat me like shit? But she's NOT treating me like shit. She's always been very kind to me, and hey, she can't help it if she's busy with college. But then there's that part of me that knows how easy it is to sound so compassionate and caring and graceful through text and not really mean it. That's a horrible thought. I'm just going to forget I even thought it.
You see how I am? I'm just not good at getting close to people. But whatever. Last night's conversation ended with me asking her if she was happy, being so wrapped up in college and all, but she never responded. I'm not sure how to interpret that. It's over now. I just want to forget that the whole petty situation ever happened. We're gonna go to Six Flags and we're gonna have fun, and next week I'm telling her everything. I'm telling her how I feel. Definitely. It's starting to actually hurt me, keeping everything inside.
So I'm making a promise to you Oasies. I'm not going to write another journal until next week, after I've told her everything. Once I get everything off my chest, hopefully things will improve.