Recap and catch up (since I'm not hormonal)

Before I say anything of any consequence I'd like to put a new rule in writing: No blogging while hormonal and while we're at it no thinking, either. Good gracious! What a whine fest the last few posts were. So much pissing and moaning. Insecurity, self-pity, ungratefulness, pettiness: all around it was a gratuitous vomit inducing, self centered sulk fest. Can't have any more of that.
Now that that's out of the way I may begin:

Things with Butthole are reasonably great. Once my mind is cleared I always go back to thinking of how irritatingly fortunate I am to be with him. Irritating for you, not me, of course. I won't get too much into that because let's face it: This blog is supposed to be about ME. :P

I am in College City! Today I went with Butthole to the community service events he attends for the various groups he is a part of at school. We went to a women's shelter and set up some activities for the kids there. It is very hearth breaking, not to mention humbling, to see so many people be so down on their luck. We also went to another place (I believe he said it was a Rescue Mission) where they give free food. It's easy to think of that as "feeding the homeless" but that's not necessarily the case. A lot of people are suffering and hurting for money and resources and it it's just the ones who are living on the street. The economy is putting a lot of people in very hard situations. There is a lot of need in our country and it great to see so many who are willing to give.
Certainly something I'll need to think more about and something I will not allow myself to throw away. This one's is getting filed.

Not feeling it.

I should be thrilled right now. I should, really. Netty, who I haven't seen in like two years, will be here in one week. I will be going to College City next weekend both to visit Butthole and to over-indulge in sushi. What do I have to complain about, right? Nothing, that's what. I feel completely free to blame my hormones at the moment but that doesn't change the way I feel. I am ok now. Mostly neutral. Last night I wasn't ok.
It was kind of sudden, as usual. I don't know what triggered it, as usual. Butthole may have triggered it. Yesterday I woke up out of it as it was. On that note I did something really lame. I told Butthole so. The distance is getting to me (didn't you know?) and I asked him if he could say something nice to me in a non-joking way from time to time. You see, as much as I know he misses me I think it's easier for him to deal with it by joking. He still tells me he misses me but he's not as sweet as he used to be. That's bound to happen, right? It's beena year and a half. The honeymoon's over. I don't want to be in a relationship where I'm not free to talk about my feelings, though, so I told him. He replied with "I love you, I can do that." But he didn't do that... all day. Which, whatever, I guess.
We were on the phone last night I tried to prompt him to say something nice but he didn't bite. Oh well, hints aren't our thing, but I had already been direct so I'm not going to be the fool who begs for affection. Then I got upset. Who knows why. Suddenly I'm on the phone with him and I'm upset. Next thing I know I'm sobbing quietly into the phone. I'm not going to let him hear me cry, though, eff that. So I said good night. You know what he did? He asked me if I was ok. He's far from stupid, and he actually knows me pretty well. He always asks if I'm ok when I'm not- that's certainly not a coincidence. What's the problem, then? The problem is that I said I was fine and we got off the phone. Have you ever been told "If you have to ask..."? That's it. If he asks then he already knows the answer. So why did he get off the phone? I guess he's learned to avoid my "moods." I can't fault him, and I'm not angry. I'm just sad. If he had pushed for an answer I would have given it to him. I don't want him to fix things but I do want him to care. If there was ever a time to say something nice that was it. So I got off the phone and cried.
You know those scenes in movies and shows when they show a dark apartment/house without any music and all you hear is ambient noise? It seems so large and desolate. I swear last night I felt like I was in one of those scenes. Suddenly I was struck by the largest feeling of loneliness and emptiness. Suddenly my apartment felt empty and vast and hollow. I was alone. I was so alone. For a moment I thought of my death. My death by any means. I wasn't contemplating suicide. I just thought "What if I died right now?" For the life of me I couldn't picture anyone grieving. Normally when I feel really depressed and like death is the only release I can easily deflect the idea because I can see how distraught all of my loved ones would be. Last night, for the first time, I just couldn't see it. I pictured Butthole sort of standing there being told I was dead and him not so much as flinching. It wasn't denial, either, it was pure indifference. Phatty would be too busy to care. Nalga would be too far away to be concerned. Mom would never find out because she's not talking to me and no one would bother to tell her since it's not important. Little Brother would continue to be himself. Then it was gone. I wasn't better but I was over that low point. I was laying there having other thoughts. Some happy, some random, some neutral. That was it. The moment passed.
Maybe I should look into that B12 supplement... mood swings like that can't be healthy. Obviously there's an underlying cause and the feelings come from a real place, but I shouldn't let them consume me like that.
I wonder if I simply repressed the sadness or if I truly let it go. I tend to do that, I think. If my life was a cartoon you'd see a close up of my brain and a growth singing "I'm a tumor I'm a tumor I'm a tumor" (that's from Family Guy, people!).
Oh yes. I shouldn't gloss over that, I guess: My mom and I aren't speaking again. This time it's pretty serious. That words "get the eff out of my life" may have come out of my mouth. I just wish today's entry from Sleep Talking Man had been posted before. It would have been better if I'd said it like he did: "Hey, I've got a great idea. You f*** off out of my life forever. Perfect!" At least then I would have made a humorous grand exit as opposed to my dramatic one. Alas! I'm Latin... I suppose I was made for drama.
Am I ok? No. But right now I can't get in tune with my devastation. It's there, believe me, but I wouldn't knock you for doubting me. It's hard to believe someone so stoic when they tell you they're distraught. Phatty asked me if I was ok when I told her. I said "No", of course. But I left it at that. Why talk about something that can't be fixed. Butthole didn't ask. I don't think he believes he needs to ask. I think he thinks I'm fine. I don't think he believes me when I say I'm bothered by my rocky relationship with my mom. Oh well... He's not often bothered by anything I feel. Oh well.
So I'm just not feeling it right now. Life, that is. I can't find it in me to be bothered either way. No crying. No laughing. Just good ol' repression for me. Hopefully my head doesn't blow up.

Selfish Julia: Reporting for duty!

Eleven minutes. That's how long I got to talk to Butthole last night. That's how long I got to talk to him all day, actually. Does that suck? It sure does, Captain! But complaining about that isn't what makes me selfish, in fact, that's a pretty valid complaint, I think.
What makes me selfish is that I'm slightly (and I really do mean that, this is certainly a mole-hill not a mountain and I'm not going to make it otherwise) bothered by how unapologetic Butthole is. That's not true. He apologizes- always. He actually started this morning by apologizing so that was a poor choice of words. What bothers me is that he seems unfazed by our lack of time together- on the phone or otherwise. Sure, he wasn't eager to get off the phone last night or anything. Of course he didn't blow me off when I ranted about the weirdo talking about make-up on TV last night. Most of the time he even sounds a little sad that we have to get off the phone, and I really do believe him when he tells me he likes to listen to me rant about whatever latest useless topic I'm going off about. My beef is with his lack of voicing his concern.
That's how he is, I know it. He's the type to not talk about things he can't change. Where is complaining going to get him? If it doesn't get him anywhere he doesn't do it. Though maybe he isn't concerned at all. I wish he was at least a little concerned. A little bothered. A little... guilty (I am such a bitch for even saying that). Not in a "he's doing something wrong" way- not at all. But just... I don't know... Sometimes I feel a bit neglected... there. I said it. I wish he felt a little bad about that. I know I would. But that's on me, obviously.
He cares about me. He loves me. All of this I know. To pretend otherwise for the sake of my misery would be insane. Like I said, this is but a mole hill. I'm not even considering bringing it up to him because it's really not a big deal.
Does he even feel like he's neglecting me? I'll be honest here: The answer is... probably not. I can't complain, though. We aren't "serious." I am not his top priority. This I know. If I choose to make him MY priority then that's on me. I knew what I was getting myself into when I started dating him. I knew he had more going on in his life than me and I knew that all those things came first. No only chronologically but on his priority list. That's ok. It has to be ok because it's not going to change. And if we stay together it's not going to change for a very, very long time.
Am I willing to put myself through that? Do I want to come second? For now- yes. It's worth it. I can deal with it. Yes, maybe I'm deluding myself that it's worth it. Or maybe I'm deluding myself that I'm deluding myself. Maybe this is normal. Maybe this is how it has to be. Maybe this is how it is for everyone. For now I'm going to make my own rules. My own rules for me. I'm not going to worry about how other couples do it. For now I'll be number two. If it bites me in the butt later... well... such is life.