Feh, I’ve been sleeping too much. Like, going to bed by 12, getting up at 8 to deal with the dogs, and then going back to bed like a lump for another 2 hours. Because I can, sure, but mostly because of the anxiety/stress.
J and I are supposed to go to divorce court and finalize this divorce this week, and that has me all sorts of twisted around and emotional. J seems to not really be carrying around any sort of sadness about the whole thing, but rather anxiety that I’m going to freak out at the 11th hour and delay the process. You know, I don’t even have to go to the courtroom… isn’t that odd? I can just sign the docs, and he can go by himself. I could be tied up in a closet somewhere, or coerced or… well, I guess we do have to sign them in front of a notary.
I’ve also been spending too much time with notaries lately. And the one up the street takes her job very, very VERY seriously. Raising hand and taking a solemn oath that I am who I say I am seriously. (The one before her told me: “I just got divorced too. Fuck ’em!”)
I had a bit of a meltdown on Saturday morning when I stumbled into the kitchen feeling all sorts of broken and battered and fragile. Still in my jammies and pre-coffee, I wasn’t prepared when J came sailing into the house unannounced and asked if his girlfriend could use the bathroom. Apart from scaring me, I was horrified. What if I’d had a -boy- over? What if I were naked? He’d texted, but I was still in bed so I didn’t know… We had a fight about privacy and house co-ownership and legal cohabitation that led to me curled up on my couch for an hour or so that afternoon, feeling like I’d been beaten up.
Honestly, I need to prepare to see him. Surprises aren’t my favorite thing when they involve people EVER, but particularly not when they involve him right now.
So that night I had am ill-timed date with S, the other Japanese dude I was seeing. I was really emotionally and physically spent, so I don’t think I was my usual sparkly self. But we had a good time drinking wine and eating tasty Italian food and cake balls. In the corner of my mind I was thinking “I need to break it off with this dude”, because I didn’t think the chemistry was there, and I’ve met another guy who I actually really like (but who is currently living close to my parents and not in TX!)… Anyway, S and I talked about all sorts of interesting things (Japanese comedy from the early 2000s!) and then parted relatively early, at 11pm.
Yesterday I got this text, typed out verbatim (he’s lived here for 10 years so we communicate(d) in both English and Japanese depending on what we wanted to say):
“Hi L, how are you? I’m really sorry to tell you that I got very turned off knowing you were interested in women before and you sound you still are [sic]. It was kind of shocking. You are a very interesting person and it’s fun spending time with you. So I would still like to see you as a friend. But I think I lost interest as a date to be honest with you. Sorry but this can happen while we are knowing each other. We can talk on the phone if you like.”
Ok… ok what? So on Saturday I’d told S about how a hotel clerk in TN thought my sister and I were a lesbian couple, and had tried to be thoughtful by suggesting he could move us to a room with one bed… then S asked me if I’d ever had experiences with women, and I said sure, I ran the bisexual student group for a while as an undergrad. I dated women, although none of those relationships made it past the 1 year mark, because I met J in the midst of all that. I told S honestly that these days my orientation is pretty straight.
Anyway, I didn’t think the conversation was a big deal. This is a Japanese guy who doesn’t mind my tattoos, let me go on two feminist rants about Japanese politicians during that same evening, etc. His sisters both married gaijin and moved to South Africa. He’s a typical Todai (University of Tokyo) salaryman in some ways, but…
I haven’t answered because I want to bitch slap him. I have no patience for needing to explain basic sexuality, and why would I want to be friends with someone who finds a basic aspect of my self-identity icky? Dude, this is why you’ve never come close to being married at age 43. Freakin’ evolve already, or don’t date girls with lotsa tattoos and punky short hair. I imagine most of us have smooched a lady or two.
Fehhhhhhhhhhhh. If I could only afford it, I really wish I was going to my shrink more than once a week. Oh, and my dog is sick and I don’t know how to pay to have him taken care of (the vet said it’s either Cushing’s or a tumor, but a more comprehensive, $350 test is needed to determine… ) Meanwhile, I miserably watch as he spends his days drinking liter after liter of water and peeing it back out, shnuffling and coughing etc.
I so wanted to get back to my routine here in HTX, but now that I am here, and I am alone I am just… blah. Trying to keep up the basic productivity. After all, I am on borrowed time with being able to stay in this house, and bleeding my parents dry as they try to support me through this difficult period.
I have too many feelings these days, guys. (Oh dear, a bee just flew into my house. It’s so nice in Houston that I’m working with the bay doors open and they have no screens.)
Matcha Problem 