Self-deprecation is worth its weight in smoldering phoenix-ashes and baby unicorn tears.
or; Act II - Flame and Fizzle
Published on March 10, 2008 By SanChonino In Dating

If you haven't read the first part yet, best read that first.

http://sanchonino.joeuser.com/article/303437/La_casa_vidriera_-_A_Tragedy_in_Two_Acts_part_one

--

05 Mar 2008. 4:24 pm.

 

Hillary and I went for a walk through the old part of town today, just meandering with no particular destination in mind, and with no other goal than simply being together.

 

As we strolled slowly, I put my arm around her firm, toned waist. She burned with a vibrance, like a spring that can tense and leap in an instant. I don't know if I've ever known someone who is quite so vibrant, shimmering, and alive.

 

In everything she does she is intense, focused, driven. Yet she can calm, relax, and just be.

 

What did I ever do to have this opportunity? Why is this vibrant, beautiful girl even talking to me, much less hugging me, kissing me, running her hands over my cumbersome body?

 

I can't help but fear that this will end. Soon. And badly.

 

But I hope it doesn't. And for now, I pull her closer to me and enjoy some time with her.

 

Please don't let this be too fleeting.

 

06 Mar 2008. 6:23 am.

Read this day's post here.

http://sanchonino.joeuser.com/article/302892/Portrait_-_a_poem

07 Mar 2008. 11:15 pm.

 

Curse my latent ability to prophesy.

 

The short: Hillary and I – over.

 

The long: I'm sitting at my desk, working on my critical analysis of Wilfred Owen's “Futility” (nice bit of foreshadowing there, Professor Style) and enjoying Ghosts I-IV, the new NIN album. There's a slight knock on the door, and I holler to come in. It opens, and there she is, big beautiful green eyes full of thick, wet tears. My heart sinks because I think I know what this means.

 

I stand up, walk to her, and grab her hands, asking her what the problem is. She collapses against me, raindrops careening from her pained eyes onto my chest, little windows of sadness coursing down her freckled cheeks.

 

She cries for a moment, and I steel myself for whatever may come. Finally, she explains to me that she's just gotten off the phone with her ex-boyfriend. (Their relationship had lasted for three years, and the breakup had been really hard on her.)

 

She explains to me that he wants to get back together with her, he wants to see her again, he wants her to “come home” during the school break for Holy Week.

 

My throat tightens up as I ask her what she's going to do.

 

She looks into my eyes with those pools of melancholic hazel, and she replies that she's already purchased the train tickets.

 

I answer with the only word that seems able to escape my suddenly-dry mouth, the only thing that can roll past my fat tongue and through my teeth - “Huh.”

 

She continues to cry, intermittently apologizing. I stroke her fine, black hair, knowing it's for the last time, telling her it's okay and I understand.

 

She gives me one last kiss – tentatively, lightly, lacking all the sensuality and fury she usually kisses me with – and walks out my door, apologizing again and saying goodbye.

 

It's not okay. I don't understand.

 

But at the same time, it is, and I do.

 

Crap.

 

I turn back to Wilfred Owen, crank up Ghosts III, and get back to work.

 

Crap.

 

08 Mar 2008. 4:13 pm.

 

Part of me is angry. It says, “How dare he just call her up like that, expecting all to be forgiven, and that she'll just run back to him? Moreover, how can she just take him back so quickly after he hurt her so?”

 

Part of me is despondent. It replies, “What makes you think it was him? She was looking for a way to end this farce of a relationship. You suck. Go trip balls.”

 

Most of me is in complete emotional disconnect, still trapped in that final word I said to her - “Huh.”

 

What a way for it to end.

 

--



Comments
on Mar 10, 2008
I beat my machine it's a part of me it's inside of me
I'm stuck in this dream it's changing me I am becoming
the me that you know had some second thoughts
he's covered with scabs and he is broken and sore
the me that you know doesn't come around much
that part of me isn't here anymore
all pain disappears it's the nature of my circuitry
drowns out all I hear there's no escape from this my new consciousness
that me that you know used to have feelings
but the blood has stopped pumping and he's left to decay
the me that you know is now made up of wires
and even when I'm right with you I'm so far away
I can try to get away but I’ve strapped myself in
I can try to scratch away the sound in my ears
I can see it killing away all my bad parts
I don't want to listen but it's all too clear

hiding backwards inside of me I feel so unafraid
Annie, hold a little tighter I might just slip away

it won't give up it wants me dead
goddamn this noise inside my head


Nine Inch Nails, "The Becoming"
on Mar 10, 2008

 

on Mar 10, 2008

Aw Braeden that just sucks beeswax!  (

on Mar 10, 2008

That bites big weenies.

I was going to say something about that. . . but I will refrain.  Just too darn tempting though. . .

Anyway, bro, sorry about the early termination.

on Mar 10, 2008

Man, I am so sorry for your broken heart.

on Mar 10, 2008
Well, at least your unrequited love didn't give you a concussion. Or two.

More to the point, this sucks.

Man.
on Mar 10, 2008

Aww, fuck.  I mean really...fuck that.

....

I'm sorry SanCho....take it easy, man.

~Zoo

on Mar 10, 2008

Can't say much more than what has already been said before.  Hope you're doing okay, mate.

on Mar 10, 2008
The way I see it you have two choices from here - you can sever things entirely, which is probably the best move, or you can wait for her to come back and then try and enter into what would most likely be an overly complicated and awkward three-sided (in)formal relationship, where your chances of getting exactly what you want are limited but not necessarily impossible.

My advice is to let it go now - you don't seem like the sort of man who can avoid feeling guilty for dating another man's girlfriend, so letting it end it now is the 'right' move. Get drunk, go somewhere cool, indulge in a little melancholy, have some self-pity fun with a stranger and move on.

Just don't do it with anyone your room-mate'd successfully manage to get - in fact, take him with you and that way you'll be able to clearly see bad choices ahead of you.