I’m trying to pull myself together.  I’m eating sweet and sour candy (stawberry sour punch straws – withdrawal makes you crave sweets, and I already have a killer sweet tooth).  The candy doesn’t go well with coffee, but it’s lousy cup of coffee anyway. 

Charlie forgot to pick up coffee last night (or to mention this fact), so this morning, we were lacking caffeine.  I grabbed a cup from the bakery where we get our pastries.  I splurged on a few swank pastries this morning – nothing nuts, but more expensive than the usual $2.00 for 2 doughnuts (I usually get a chocolate cake doughnut – I know better than to eat this way).  It was too cold out for a smoothie.  The wind was blowing, and it was really chilly here.  The people I was with were under-dressed for the weather, and they bitched constantly.  I was pretty cozy in my oversized, coduroy jacket – like a little blanket wrapped around my torso.  

I eat way too much junk food.  I’m going to turn into a flabby beast.

I am still twitching, occasionally (lingering withdrawal crap).  Charlie pretends not to notice.  But, otherwise, I’m okay, right now.  Not productive…  not WELL…  but okay… 

I try to think calmly, and rationally.  I tell myself not to trust my impulses – but if I can’t trust myself, how do I know if anything’s right?  Some things are more obvious than others.  Needing to kick…  that’s beyod obvious.  Got so sick this a.m.  My other health problems are flaring up like mad – aggravated by the lingering withdrawal.  I just want to collapse, and give up, sometimes, but I can’t go back, now.  I’ve come too far to give up, now.  This was so hard, and so much has gone into it – and, I’m not the only one who’s thrown down and fought for this.  Ace has done so much t help me.  Jordan’s pretty much a saint, as far as his friendship with me is concerned .  I can finally give him a little something towards the money I owe him, and that’s a really good feeling.  I’m hoping to that paid off before too long.  He’s so generous, and kind to me.  

I want to be someone my friends can depend on.

Someone told me the other day that I would be better off moving out, and living with Jordan.  Someone else told me that he tried to kick with his partner, and it didn’t work – that he felt relieved when he finally left to do it on his own.  My situation is a little stranger than most (and I’m not getting all terminally unique here – or, maybe I am), because I’m not staying, as I have in the past, out of some certainty that this is where I belong.  Maybe, I don’t even know where I belong, anymore.  My situation here is vague at best.  We’re companions.  We support each other financially, and we take care of each other.  There is a level of affection there, but nothing like… 

I don’t want to think about this, anymore.  I don’t want to evaluate whether I’m hanging on to this place out of fear, or affection, or some sense that this is still my home (and I want to be someplace where I feel safe, right now).  The latter seems as likely as anything, but there are probably any number of factors.  But, that doesn’t mean the situation won’t change.  When the lease comes up for renewel in July (or is August?), I guess, we’ll see how far we’re going to extend this little arrangement.  It could be extended for up to a year (which, as is, would be pretty nuts), or…  it could end very suddenly.

When Charlie was still waiting tables at a pizzeria (same place where he eventually became my boss), he was waiting one day on a quiet guy who never spoke, except to place his order, which was always the same.  He would buy a baby pizza, and a cup of coffee.  One of the times Charlie comes by to freshen his coffee, the guy says, "The devil appeared to me, in 1976.  He had the head of a man, and the body of a spider.  He was the size of a spider.  So…  I crushed him with a coffee cup," he says, as he slams his cup down, as if demonstrating.  Charie, highly entertained, but trying to be polite responded, "thanks for looking out, man."

And, to all of you who have been there for me, lately, listening to me b*tch, reading my blogs, leaving caring comments, or just checking in on me  – I know it’s not smashing satan with a coffee cup, but it’s a pretty big f@cking deal in my little world.  Some of you have really helped keep me alive (all this depression.and pain can be terminal in its own way), and for that, you will ALWAYS have my gratitude.

Haven’t talked to Ace yet today – last night, he forgot to make me promise, again.  The promises help me stay focused, but the idea is there, whether I specifically promised last night, or night. He’s still counting on me.  He’s still given SO MUCH of himself, to help me.  I can’t let him down.