Darling Big Dog

7am started packing.  The apartment very quickly unraveled.  The paintings came off the walls, the books from the shelves.  I made a pile of things that I am sick of dragging from place to place with me.  NO MORE DEAD WEIGHT.  That means no more people or things that I carry around just for the sake of it.

A tidal wave of resentment hit me this morning.   Remembering the ‘we were both very vulnerable when we met’ line from Jake’s letter.  I was far from ‘vulnerable’, I was riding the recovery wave.   He was vulnerable, trapped in a meaningless relationship that he was too much of a coward to get out of.

What singularly pisses me off is that he deliberately hunted me down to exploit my specific vulnerability: bi-curious men.    He watched me on TV spew my guts about my triggers then offers me the equivalent of crack to a crack addict all under the guise of being a lit agent.

When he realized that he was way in over his head he told me that all he ever wanted was something ‘shallow and meaningless’.

I used to care what he was up to.  Now, I don’t give a fuck.

I don’t care what he’s doing.  He can snort poppers, get banged senseless both ends by multiple partners but of course he’ll never be happy until he’s made his peace with her.  Indulgent FREAK.  Good luck with that one Jake.  His fantasy:  they could live together as friends.

Getting my needs met.

I chatted with some guy who wanted a date.  I told him straight:  we can have coffee but if you have no conversation I will be leaving in ten minutes.  I am sick of bland, unsophisticated men who expect me to be interested in their miserable pathology, their dull life story and their appalling disinterest in the world.  More reasons NOT to be in any kind of relationship.  I don’t care how big your cock is…if you don’t have anything to say you can fuck off back to where you crawled from.

As I deconstruct the apartment of course I remember the big dog.  She really didn’t like Hollywood preferring Malibu and her life in the country.  She was such a bloody good dog and as I write this HUGE tears well up in my eyes and splash onto the laptop.

We both miss her so much.

She is something worth missing, not some trashy, popper snorting, closet queen from Westchester.