Cry me a river

Alright, I do need to make one more point on this whole Donna thing (but please do read the posting below this one because I spent an unforgivable number of hours on it that probably should've been used on...oh, I don't know...my job).

When I was on the phone with her Wednesday night, I was telling her how much she's meant to me over the past six months. About how my life had been completely upside down and I had no direction and how I didn't know if I could've survived without her. While I'm saying this, my face starts getting all hot and I'm just babbling at her and then I think to myself, "Wow. Am I crying?!" I felt like the Terminator - "why is there liquid leaking from my face?"

Now. The fact that I started crying should tell you how strongly I felt about her. Because I just don't cry. Ever. It's not that my heart is black and brittle, I just process things differently and when I'm upset, it manifests itself some other way. My mom and dad are both very private when they're upset. They channel grief internally because (I guess) they don't think it should be anyone else's burden. So that's how I was raised. Donna on the other hand, is very demonstrative and emotes outwardly. She used to cry every time we said goodbye (and it was so goddamn sweet). But she comes from a family of criers, so it was natural for her.

Here's an interesting Seinfeldian stat for you: I hadn't cried since August 1998 (not counting the guffaws of joy that occasionally squeak out during the Biggest Loser). I cried then because I was leaving for college - my entire life was changing, my mom was selling the house, I didn't know when I'd be home again...it was traumatic. So here I was, Wednesday, sitting on my couch, pouring my heart out like I'd never poured it out before - and I got nothing in return. I mean, nothing. She ended things with the cold efficiency of an inmate execution. She told me she consciously shut off all feelings for her own sanity (an approach I've since adopted) and I guess she is upset that it ended. And I guess I appreciate her restraining herself, because it would've been a disaster if we were both bawling into the phone. It was just kinda weird.

ANYWAY. I went out last night and got shit-hammered. It was my friend Miles' birthday, which gave me an excuse to wrap myself around a whiskey bottle and replace my bottle of feelings with a bottle of spirits. Which lifted my spirits. And I hung out with two great girls, Ceci and Iliana, I hadn't seen in awhile (and it always feels good when you have two attractive girls laughing at your jokes and paying lots of attention to you). Honestly, I haven't been able to think about anything but Donna for the last 36 hours. And, as I'm apt to do, I've had incidents where my mind has started to drift and visualize terrible, upsetting things (like Donna having sex with other guys) and I'll have to literally shake my head and say, "no, no, no, no, let's not go there." But other than that, I'm trying to be a trooper.