The Ringing In My Ears

Last night I went to bed smelling like Nick.  I fell asleep in one of his t-shirts.  Not out of sentimental reasons.  More out of pure exhaustion and lack of dry clothing.  Long story.  I am just glad I landed in my own bed ultimately.  A phone call from a good friend brought me back to reality and the security of my own home.

I think it is time that I give actual names to the delightful people I have been writing about.  It is getting confusing enough as it is without the absence of names.  Nick.  The narcissistic asshole.  The bipolar, druggy, alcoholic who barely tries to win me over anymore yet still manages to get to me.  I also decided upon seeing an episode of Fringe that he looks very similar to Joshua Jackson if you want a visual.  He gets under my skin, Nick, not Joshua Jackson.  I hate him really.  He is like the hateful thing I do to myself when I am feeling bad.  I could never be a cutter, but I get why they do it.  Nick is like the fucking razor blade.  Or maybe he is even the cut itself.  He makes me feel alive momentarily, but he makes sure to choke that life out of me prior to leaving his side.  If his actions don't cut me down he is damn sure to say something to guarantee that I feel terrible before I go.  It's so weird how he started out such a different person to me.  I still don't know if he has spun out of control in the two months that I have known him, or if I was delusional at the beginning.  Doesn't matter really, just a thought.  He is what he is.  There is this song that makes me think of him, it is a stupid sappy song, and it is about an 'almost' lover but that's how I think about the different versions of him.

I barely heard from him this week, after letting my husband go, yet he calls me and I am there.  He calls me Babe, begs me to come, tells me he misses me, bam.  I am there.  I know it's bullshit but I almost appreciate the effort.

I wish I could say that this week I had spent more time thinking and accessing my current situation.  I told my husband that before I, in his words 'threw us away' would think about it.  I cleaned.  A lot.  I cleaned out my closets, I made sure all the empty spaces left from my husband were neatly filled, I tidied my basement, my car, my garage, my classroom, anything and everything.  Side effect of anxiety issues and being obsessive compulsive... really clean living spaces.  I left little time for thought.

I would feel bad if I only saw Nick this week the one time last night....but there was also Matt.

Matt, also known to you all as the very pretty Micheal C. Hall look-a-like.  You know, the guy I was never going to see again.  Yeah, that worked out perfectly.  This guy completely gets my jokes, sometimes he even beats me to them.  It's borderline infuriating.  My references never need explained, which is cool, because usually I have to explain myself, or the other person just doesn't find them as funny as I do.  I have never met someone who likes the same exact weird movies and music as we do, makes for a lot to talk about.

There is also the fact that I very rarely feel at an intellectual disadvantage when talking to other people, but he is surprisingly brilliant.  It's refreshing.  My husband isn't dumb, but he isn't very intellectual either.  Books and education aren't really his thing.  Nick is very smart too, but he is usually too wasted to appear to be anything but brain dead.  My neighbor, Greg, also not an idiot, but we have nothing in common really so our conversations are very simplistic.

I have never been bored talking to Matt, and our conversations in person, and via text, have never been forced.  They are usually comical but he has also been a sounding board late at night when the rest of the world is asleep and I am sad.  I like that he is nice to me, but also teases me to the point of almost being an asshole, it keeps it from being serious.

However, upon spending time with him, he is also lousy in the sack and smacks his lips so bad when he eats. I have never heard something so barbaric.  I actually contemplated taking his plate of food from him so I could hit him with it.  I know  it seems like a silly thing to be hostile about, but it is that bad.  My mother would have smacked the shit out of me if I dared make that kind of noise eating.  I saw him twice this week. Great kisser.  This really got my hopes up, because let me tell you, if you could see this guy's body paired with being a fabulous kisser... I thought I could overlook the lip smacking.

He took off his shirt and he was also all sweaty so his hair got all curly and messy, I was pulled right into the moment.  We seriously were just watching football, then listening to music.  Then there was the kissing.  It was like 3 AM.  I had no intention of letting it go that far anyways... then it was over. It took less than 30 seconds.  No joke.  I chalked it up to too much making out and the late hour.  But then it happened the second time too.  He also, prior to the second time, and having only hung out once in private, took a shower at my house after work. The shower I approved, but he then decided that it was socially acceptable to just strip down in front of me while I was showing him where to find the towels.  I mean one minute I was awkwardly showing his where to find the things he would need, and the next he was completely naked.  Way too comfortable which made me very uncomfortable.

I still gave him a shot after the weird random nakedness.  That was failed attempt, after great kissing, number two.  He was really sweet though.  He seems to know I am not too interested in anything more than company, he laid next to me, and ran his fingers gently on my back until I fell asleep.  We still have been talking, but thankfully not about anything serious.

Then there is my husband, Jim.  He isn't doing too great.  He came over tonight and we talked.  He is trying to understand what's going on with me, but I can't ever put it into words for him.  I told him he was like ringing in my ears.  I didn't intend it to sound mean, but it did.  The last few months what started as loneliness, then grew into discontentment, and then insanity was like that obnoxious ringing in your ears that sometimes you get and you don't notice it really at first, but then when it stops the silence makes you aware that it had been there all along.

This week, although obviously full of poor choices, has been silent.  The ringing, the pressure, it was gone.  I am free.  I am on auto pilot still, but tonight is the first night of actual literal silence since Jim left. I am starting to feel it.  Sounds shitty, I obviously was sad as he packed, and I cried that day, but since then I have been sort of numb to it.  I assumed it was the meds I am on.  Or maybe I am a heartless bitch.  I don't think so though, because I don't want to hurt him, which is why I had to make him go.

Tonight I am starting to feel the loneliness that I feared.  I want to feel it though.  I could reach out and fill it, there is no doubt in my mind about that now, but tonight is the first night that I haven't heard from anyone else that would help distract me from the truth of my situation.  I think that the absence of company of any kind is a good thing.  I mean I hate it, obviously, and I am partially drunk, but it is quiet.  The ringing is gone, no new cuts or bruises, safe and sound in my own bed, and in all of my own clothes.  It might just be the best night this week.