August 5, 2001
Fucked Up
I swear I am the most fucked-up person I know. There is no excuse for me. Why he stays with me I don't know.
This week has been hell in the emotions department. Let me elaborate.
Saturday, as in last saturday, not yesterday: Jill and Ryan leave Justin at Bright festival upon his request. Jill calls parents just to let them know what's up, where their kids are, they are livid. Parents attempt homicide via the telephone. Demand Jill and Ryan go get brother and bring him home.
And hour and a half later, after tracking Justin down, Jill and Ryan return brother. Parents reluctantly allow Jill to go to the movie she missed while returning brother.
Sunday: As predicted, it is Jill whom parents are furious with. The fact the Justin harassed Jill into leaving him is irrelevant. Jill proceeds to have the worst fight with her parents since the shirt incident. Screaming and Crying lasts approximately three hours.
Ryan does not call that day.
Monday: Mother is slightly recovered from temporary hatred of offspring. Jill proceeds through day in wounded cloud. Ryan calls for about ten minutes, leaving with promises of calling her when she gets off work.
Jill goes to work. Jill returns home from work at 8. At a quarter to ten she calls Ryan as he has not yet called her. Hampton is over his house, so his attention is more than divided. He says he will talk to her tomorrow and they can do something after he gets back from Lindle's party.
Tuesday: Jill goes to work at 3. Ryan didn't call that morning. The party is also at 3, maybe he will call her at work.
He does not call at work. He does not call that night. Jill sits at home and tries not to cry. Now not only do her parents loathe her company, so, it seems, does her boyfriend.
Wednesday: Ryan calls. Jill is ice cold. He wants to see her, he says. Maybe she can come over to his house, because of course he doesn't have any money to take her anywhere. She agrees, merely because they need to talk, she needs to see him, she loves him despite her anger.
He, predictably, tries to make-out with her, oblivious to her mood. She shuns him. He asks her to explain. She tries.
She leaves him confused and he leaves her almost in tears.
Thursday/Friday: Jill is gone. Jill calls Ryan's work Friday night when she gets home to tell him she is home. She figures she call really talk to him tomorrow since it is, afterall, their Saturday. Ryan always saves his Saturday's for her.
Saturday: Jill goes to work at 8:30 in the morning. Ryan calls at about 10 to tell her that he and Scott are going to a car show all day, so not only can he not visit her at work (like he almost always does when she works 8 hours), but they also can't do anything that night.
He seems perfectly okay with this.
She seems crushed, but he does not seem to notice.
Sunday, that's right, today: Ryan calls when he gets home from church. He asks if she feels better. She says no.
Then proceeds huge conversation wherein both parties grow terse with eachother and Jill fails to convey the source of her sorrow. Ryan does not get it. Maybe he never will.
It does not mean enough to her that he says he is sorry, that if he could have done anything differently he would have, that they are both victims of a week of unfortunate circumstances.
She does not feel better.
He says he can't fix this if she doesn't tell him how.
She can't tell him. She doesn't know.
He tells her he loves her.
I love him.
But I am so fucked up.
astera at pre-fiesta