So Much Parentheses!

"I know what I have. Do you know what you got? Jump on my train yeah, my little train of thought."
- Mother Mother, Train Of Thought

Yesterday, something horrific happened to me that has never happened before. I worried myself sick. Literally, physically sick. Eevee, Wrecking Ball, Hey Rosetta, Hamlet, Fuu, Silk and I were having our routine TV night (currently we are watching Firefly and The Misfits) and I was fretting over thoughts I will express in a moment. A pit of anxiety had been forming in my stomach all day, dreading a conversation I knew I would have to have. It had kept me awake until 7 am on Saturday night (the only reason I didn't blog about it then, was I wanted to make sure I said these things to Wrecking Ball before he could read them).

All through Firefly, I kept feeling my throat tense and my stomach jump. I was thinking to myself - are you really going to be sick? Are you insane? Then, shortly into the episode of The Misfits, my stomach lurched and I just Knew. I hopped up, hurried out of the room saying "Bathroom, I'll text when I need back in" (we were in the girls' wing of Hamlet's dorm and I didn't know where their bathroom is so I was going to the bathroom out in the main section of the building, where classes are, which would then mean I was locked out) and I sprinted down the hallway. I made it to the bathroom in time, but I was highly disgusted. I mean, first of all, nobody likes throwing up (personally, I get all teary whenever I do, because it is just so unpleasant) but mainly my issue was this: I can get anxious enough to be sick. This has never happened before, and it worries me. Anxiety issues have been becoming more and more obvious with me lately, and I fully intend to go to counselling for this and other things, but this was a new and frightening kind of feeling.

The root of my anxiety was some major inferiority issues. Wrecking Ball decided to read the rest of my blog (which didn't bother me at all, though I did have to cringe about the period thing in the last entry, haha) (and actually I reread the whole blog and cringed a few times, but whatever) and he was concerned about the Gaga entries. Understandable. He told his ex, and she tried to find this blog in order to see the entries, but instead she found Hey Rosetta's blog, which said something about Wrecking Ball's drunken week in Montreal and meeting a girl there with an expressive face. I haven't read the entry myself so I don't know how it was phrased, but basically it looked worse than it was. So WB and the ex (I feel like she needs a nickname but I don't know anything about her, so it's weird...) had a fight about that, and basically she told him that he needed to tell me about that before she did. Her intentions were supposedly to make me angry with him, too. But that backfired. After our conversation Saturday night, I actually felt as though WB is too good for me.

Firstly, his great big former relationship faux-pas was saying that he had not drank while he was in Montreal, even though he really had. This lie, although big for her since she had asked him not to drink, seems pretty inconsequential to me. I've done worse. In fact, that is my next point. My great big former relationship faux-pas was cheating on Acadia. Multiple times, with multiple people - one of these was even a prolonged affair. I was always honest about it after the fact, but then I would do it again. As I said to Wrecking Ball in a bit of a revelation, Acadia and I had, in our relationship (and after, too) a sort of on-going competition to see who could hurt the other more. Nobody wins a competition like that. My point with the comparison between what he did to her and what I did to Acadia is this: if that is the worst thing he has done, how could he possibly still want to be with me after hearing what I did? I spent a lot of Sunday worrying about this. I just knew that I couldn't not tell him. He needed to know the person I used to be. And I really, really needed him to believe with me that people change. I am no longer the sort of girl who will find herself alone with a boy and make sure that he wants her enough to take her. I am no longer the sort of girl who cheats on her boyfriend because she knows it will hurt both of them. Sometimes I still do some things to hurt myself, but I make sure that I'm not hurting anyone else in the process. (And no, Love, don't worry, I am not physically hurting myself, nor do I intend to.)

The next thing that made me feel like Wrecking Ball was too much of a good person for me was the fact that he still cares about his ex, and he felt bad that they had had this fight. Because me -  I hate Acadia. I do. I hate him so much that it hurts some times, and I hate that. I hate that I have the capacity to feel so much venom for someone, and I hate that I am actually feeling it. For someone whose name fills up so many spots on my list of firsts, he really should be more important to me. But whenever I think of him, I can only think of two things, and both memories are painful. The first was last March, when we had that fight and he said again that I feel no emotions, that I have never loved anyone and that I never will, and by the time we got to his place I ended up screaming at him that he isn't worth talking to, and then I found myself wandering alone around that stupid neighbourhood trying to hide the fact that I was crying, and the guy that I thought I was dating, Sin, wouldn't answer his phone. (I was originally going to name him Weed but that sounds too insulting. Sin sounds kind of hard core. I think he would like that.) The other memory is more recent: early in December, we drove around for a while, and he was talking about how he didn't have feelings for anyone, and I started to cry because I didn't want him to feel like that, and he said I didn't need to cry for him because I had Cowboy, and then I choked out that my relationship with Cowboy was dying fast, and then I was in hysterics. I have never cried so hard in my life. He had only seen me cry once before, and it wasn't like that. If it's not related to movies or books, I don't let people see me cry. But he didn't comfort me. He basically said I had brought it on myself.

I think I started rambling. I also paused my writing to do some searching on Google, and spent a few minutes spacing out and just listening to Mother Mother on my iPod, and so now I'm not sure if this all makes sense, but I have only a few minutes before the bus so I need to wrap this up.

Basically: I felt like Wrecking Ball's ability to still care for his ex and the fact that his big horrible thing was just a small lie like that made him to be a much better person than myself, the former whore who will be perfectly happy if she never speaks to or sees her ex again. I felt as though I wasn't good enough to be with him. To my relief, after pushing out some words about all this, he didn't hate me. He even said he didn't think less of me, which finally made my stomach relax.