Ugh, I hate how ‘needy’ I have become for him. I cried yesterday when he told me that he wouldn’t be home until Monday. They were tears of pure disappointment – I had mentally prepared myself for going a few days without contact and reassured myself with the thought that we would be able to spend Wednesday night together. I didn’t tell him that I was upset because I know that clingy people make him nervous. He’d be upset that I feel I need to hide something from him, but it’s not really about him. I don’t really want to admit to myself that I’m being clingy; I don’t think I could bring myself to say that aloud.
I feel pathetic and vulnerable. I don’t know how I managed to survive this summer – 3 months without seeing him – and yet can’t seem to to be without him for a whole 6 days. That pisses me off. I hate feeling weak.
I haven’t written Jones yet. He and I promised we would keep each other on our toes over the year. I left over 3 months ago – and yet, nothing. I would call it writer’s block except that I don’t think that usually lasts years. At this point it really has been years since I threw myself into a writing project. It makes me feel like a failure. Moreover, I am certain I’ve disappointed him. I’ve failed him as an accountability partner because I can’t hold myself accountable.
