Alright, so I'm still sad over SL leaving, but knowing that it was the right decision helps. Knowing that he's miserable down there also helps. Maybe that's wrong of me, but I can't help it.
I have a new theory, and it may seem like I am trying to shift all the blame to him, but I'm not. I think that SL has a problem with prescription medication. He wanted so badly to get on adderall, supposedly because he has ADD. That's when it all started. I was thrilled for him to get on it, because I thought it would make him focus, which he did have a little problem with. But he turned slightly strange when he got on the adderall. Then it was Klonopin. Then free samples of Celebrex. Then he had to take Meclazine (Dramamine) for the nausea that these meds were causing. In addition to that he took aspirin and some Chinese brain pills every day. It was ridiculous. He was obsessed with pharmaceuticals, and it was pretty much all he talked about. I was irritated with it because it seemed like he was acting like he knew everything, but looking back he just knew way too much for only being a pharmacy tech. Not that that's a bad thing, but when you're self medicating and convincing a doctor to prescribe things for you... that's a bad thing. Anyway, last week before he moved away, last Wednesday actually, while I was out he sent me a text message saying he was on his way home from the hospital. How he got there, I do not know. I didn't drive him. And the closest one, St. Ann's, is like five or more miles away and not easy to walk to. Regardless, he found out that he had a viral infection and a boxer's fracture. I found this slightly amusing because supposedly he had the fracture for a week (it came from punching the walls upstairs!) and had never said one single word about it. So he ends up getting two prescriptions, one for the viral infection and one for the fracture... which just happens to be Percocet. He used a fake name at the hospital and even filled the script at the CVS where he worked under the same fake name! How is this even possible?! Well the other night, I got a text message saying he was in the hospital again (in Florida.) For his back. I told him not to get any more scripts and he said he wasn't, but... I don't know. According to my doctor, if someone takes adderall, it acts like speed. The person is more quick to be angered, violent, and irritable. Then when it wears off, they are lacadaisical. This describes SL completely, and he never used to be that way. I just don't know. I hope I'm wrong, but it makes complete sense, and he'll probably read this and get pissed off, but what can I say?
I'm worried about him. We had such a great relationship up until the last two or three months. No major problems, no issues really, it was just great. I was so happy. I feel now like a piece of me is actually missing. I've never felt this way about someone leaving my life, not my husband, not TM, not MF... no one. It still hurts, and I try to rationalize things, even try focusing on the terrible things and the bad things and I still want him to come back. It's easier when I am not alone, but when I'm just at home doing nothing I find myself crying over TV commercials and when I hear songs I cry over those too. It's ridiculous. I got weepy yesterday because I was watching Jeopardy and I thought about how SL and I used to watch Jeopardy all the time together. It's so lame. I know he can't come back, I know he won't come back, but there is that little bit of hope inside me that says we can work things out someday. I almost lost my job because of fighting with him. Things got violent. It was out of control. But I still want him to come back. I'm just grieving still I guess.
SL is miserable in Florida, and I knew he would be. He hates the heat, living with his dad and being told what to do all the time, and the new CVS's where he works. He has no car and nothing to do except hang out with RS. And RS has a pregnant girlfriend and a job so that's not even possible all the time. I feel slightly bad for SL, but just slightly. He shouldn't have moved to Florida, he should have stayed here so we could work things out the way we planned. I almost feel like he didn't even care and the way he left was like the coward's way out. Instead of facing the music and working on things for real, he just left. He says it's because I told him I wanted him out, and I hated him, which I did say (mostly out of anger), but I never said I wanted him to leave the state. Just the house. *sigh* I'm just in a weird place right now. I just heard our song on the radio and it gave me the shivers like I was going to puke.
On to something much happier, let's talk about the weekend!
Friday night I did nothing. At least, I don't remember doing anything, so I must not have. I vaugely remember watching a lot of Law & Order. Saturday I went to WR's house for the OSU game vs. Penn State. It was a shitty game (just ask Joe Paterno) up until OSU scored a whole bunch and killed the Knittany Lions. Yee Haw! It was a fun time, a few other folks I know were there, we had pizza (omg! Donato's Mariachi Pizza! Mmmmm!) and shots and lots of beer. It was great. D*Martin called me around eight and said to head over to Poke's house. I did so, and we hung out there for awhile, had a couple beers, just chilled. D*Martin's ex called him up to meet at the Half Time Tavern on Bethel, so with much debate we finally went. D*Martin drove seperately, and when we got there he was nowhere to be found. I went in the bar and to the bathroom to call him, and when he answered he was puking his guts out. I'm like what the fuck. I would have called back! Then he's finally done and says he's in the parking lot. Poke and I go out there and find him, as he's projectile vomiting on the side of the car - or so I think, but he's really just spitting out mouthwash. I run around to the other side and almost step in the real puke. It was a very tragic twenty seconds. He tells us some story about making himself yak because he's afraid he's going to get in a fight with his ex's new man or something... whatever, I know he's wasted. The next day I found out that he kept drinking after that, went to this bar down on the south end, and drove home while puking out the door. He drove straight, he knew for sure, because he was looking at the yellow line while he yakked. Christ. ANYWAY! Poke and I headed over to Otani to do some karaoke, and it was so shitty. It took about twenty minutes to get a water, ten more minutes to get a beer for him and a martini for me, then he sang and my name never even got called, and we left. We bolted. We drank and dashed so to speak... At least he left some cash on the table for them. Not enough to cover it, but still, a little bit. Our table was probably only about $8 anyway, but seriously, they sucked. Which surprised me because I've always gotten good service there! After that we went over to Springer's Pub to meet up with the guys I work with for a sort-of birthday celebration. It was just a bunch of us hanging out. Poke and I shared two large beers, and then headed home. We thought it was like one thirty in the morning, and when we got home, it was only eleven thirty!! We joked about being like old people, tried to drink some Natty Ice, and then... well... we went to bed... Poke and Kel-Bell style. Then he woke me up at six a.m., which was nice... Then I finally got up for good around ten a.m. and took him home. He even kissed me in front of his neighbors! I was shocked. He told me this long thing about how he would never make a good boyfriend or husband, because it's just not his style, and I was laughing inside because I didn't even bring it up. We tried to date once, for like 24 hours, and it just didn't work. Too much going on. If it happens it happens but I'm not even looking for it. Especially now.
I chilled at home all day Sunday, and went to Brewstir's around ten thirty. At first it was so dead. Cat and Crash showed up, the kid I punched in the face was there, and a few folks who I didn't know and who weren't there for karaoke. D*Martin put all my drinks on his tab that night, which was really awesome of him. There were these two guys, a cowboy and a dego wop skank (who ended up actually being norweigan/irish/something heritage but he looked like a greaser), and they were in town on business selling furniture or something. The cowboy, Chris, was really sweet and nice, and the skank, Mike, was nice too, except he kept doing the drunk lean. It was so annoying. I'm trying to sit in my chair and he's like leaning hard on me, and I'm like wtf mate?! Get off me!! He was almost trying to bang me right there in the bar, and I was so not interested. Dooger showed up later on, so I was trying to hang out with him more, to get away from skank. The Aerosmith guy was there too, and I traded him my boring purple lighter for his awesome purple rubbery lighter. Yeah! What had started as a boring evening had become a great fun one, and I was so happy. When the bar closed, I felt I was too wasted to drive home, so I went up to Dooger's apartment to chill for an hour or so. Of course things led to things and... Yeah. But that's okay, he's a swell guy. But he sweats a lot. I got home around 4am.
Monday, work was very very long. It seemed like the longest day ever. I went home, took a nap, and then ate some chicken rice and headed to Triple 16 for the Sandogg's welcome back party. This night, much like the night before, started off terribly boring. It was only Cat, Crash, Mr. Boston, and myself. Well and some folks I didn't know. The Triple 16 pretty much sucks, but I like it because it's fairly cheap and I get to sing a lot. OA, Sandogg, Lady K, Jorge, and some guy I recognized but couldn't remember his name showed up around ten thirty. Roch was there too. She and I sat and talked for a long time. Man, she is so awesome. We had a great time. We were dancing with Crash, there were shots everywhere, Cat bought me a little pitcher and I got one of my own (heck it was only $4!) and it was just a really fun time. I'm lucky to have such great friends. Dooger showed up really late again, and he ended up coming back to my house. We sat and talked for awhile, then went to bed. That night he wasn't as sweaty...! He slept over, and left around 8 a.m., which was fine because I had to get up for work anyway.
Yesterday I did nothing. Work was long and slow again, and I wasn't feeling like number one after having been drunk for three straight nights. I went to Kroger and bought some groceries, decided to have chinese food for dinner, and then went home. I watched Jeopardy, surfed the internet for a little while, and spent the rest of the night watched Law & Order and SVU. It was swell. I just relaxed, hung out with the cats, and didn't do a damn thing.
Tonight I might head over to Brewstir's since my cable has been shut off til Friday, but I really can't afford it, so I'm not sure. I could just drink water, no big deal, and I'm sure someone will buy me a beer, haha. I'm always like "no no I'm good" and they get me one anyway. It's cool. When I have money I will be buying everyone beers too.
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