We're getting very close to the end of the line here. Our return trip to the Inn is the weekend of June 14. So just over a month before I get to be me again. You'd think I'd be excited. I'm terrified.
I don't really know what I'm going back to. The new me assured me things are a-okay, that he deferred my enrollment until fall 2014, worked, built up a lot of funds, some credit... kept things "under control." Somehow this is scary to me. I don't know the details. If there was some disaster to report, I could feel safe knowing that my panic was justified. It can't be that easy.
By comparison... I look at what I'm leaving. A good body, a good life... one that I've almost made too good. I am just getting good at Angie's job at the holistic store. I am very friendly with my roommates - we eat dinner together almost every night. I've gotten a sneak-peek at life after school, and it's fun. Not very successful, but fun and free.
Then there's David. I can't even think about it without getting a stress headache. What have I done. That was my biggest fuck-up of being Angie, hooking up with David. For so many reasons.
I feel like it's inevitable that I'm going to leave a mess for Angie to clean up when she gets back. David was a friend of hers, and I used him for my own... pleasure? Curiosity? I'm not sure it makes a difference to him. The problem is, I took their relationship to this level, and I don't think you can just go back.
I feel grossed out by myself whenever we do it, not because I like it (I'm over that, mostly,) but because I'm not asking for more from him. Quality time. Dates. Companionship. I've realized that he's not someone that I would date, even among all men, if I'm into that (more on this later) that while he's an okay (at best) sex partner, outside the bedroom, he's just too much of a stoner hippie to be compatible with me. He always seems to be in a bit of a druggy haze.
Not that I'm miss goody two shoes myself. I smoke now, weed at least. I like it. It makes me feel so at peace, which believe me, I need for this situation. We share a joint before screwing, and it helps his, erm... staying power. And it makes me all tingly and relaxed.
But there's a difference between smoking at the end of a day, and smoking as soon as you get out of bed. It makes him really dull company. You could even say that I smoke partly because I need to get down to his level before I can let him do anything, but the truth is I could never get to his level.
Ugh, complain, complain, complain... I feel like such an asshole. This situation is really my making. If I never let him touch me in the first place, I wouldn't be having this conversation. But what was I supposed to do? After a certain point, sex became all I could think about. I lie awake in bed at night fondling my tits and wishing someone, anyone else, were there, male or female. I didn't know girls could get like that, but then again, I guess I'm only partly a girl.
Well, the part that counts.
I have to end it. I have to, because it's not fair if I leave it for Angie to resolve. But with the routine I've gotten into, I feel like I'm going to leave it for the last possible moment.
Life was easier when I wasn't getting laid, didn't want to get laid, couldn't get laid. Sex has ruined me. If I stayed female more than another month I worry what I'd end up turning into.