dear c,

too tired to properly detail my day. it was incredibly frustrating and anxiety filled. i tried recallikg what i learned frkm the book but tbh jt was tough. my ryes really hurt. i need to take u to the yemeni cafe and go on the lightrail w u. miss u tons.

- p

dear c,

this morning i noticed the garbage trucks come by around 8am, or maybe even 9am, i don't even remember anymore. all i remember is feeling glad that they didn't wake me up at 6:30am like usual.

my legs are pretty covered in bug bites. i noticed them yesterday but was hoping that my mind was playing tricks on me--turns out there's mosquitos here. wonderful.

i needed to do my laundry today since i ran out of underwear and it was my first time going to the laundry room. i was quite anxious, but it turned out to be relatively ok. when i first got there, i left my fob behind, and i needed it to access the actual room, so i had to go all the way back to get it even though as i initially left i thought it might be a good idea to grab it, but i was too lazy to. i should learn to trust my intuition and be more prepared for things.

doing laundry meant walking the fifth floor a bunch. i observed the various smells and temperatures and people's decor--someone already had halloween decorations up, and i remember seeing a very dirty welcome mat, and the door across the laundry room had a ton of papers posted on it so perhaps someone is going to get evicted soon.

the washer finished very quickly and was bigger than i anticipated--it can fit two backpacks of my stuff i think. it was also a good idea to do it on a weekday in the middle of the day because almost all the machines were empty. i ran into someone starting their laundry on my way out after getting my clothes from the dryer.

for lunch i had the rice and beans that I got from costco. they tasted restaurant quality, and i wondered if most mexican restaurants just outsourced this stuff and reheated it, because it tasted pretty familiar. however, the beans were really salty. or maybe the costco stuff is actually pretty authentic.

at some point during the day i became obsessed with finding a beaver in the river and watched a David Attenborough beaver video. they're like wombats of the river! i also dreamt about japanese curry, which i plan to buy the ingredients for and make on saturday since I bought curry cubes at daiso on sunday.

unfortunately my therapy appointment, which i sort of really needed and wanted, got canceled. my therapist was at some training today and neglected to tell me until two hours before our appointment. oh well. i rescheduled it for next week.

i wrote a letter to H and a postcard to Aaron today. i need to find scotch tape and also remember what street i need to walk to post them, because there's a road i know i can go down and i'll happen upon a post box on the sidewalk, i just don't remember which way it is.

i read a lot of the book. it feels good to read an easy to read book, though i really need to internalize the material which feels a bit scary, but i realized in the shower that i think we can do it together, especially since our anxiety manifests in similar ways. i look forward to doing this with you. i know i texted you today, but even the thoughts i had from that i could more intentionally address based on what i've read so far, but i know i still have more work to do.

i wanted pizza so i walked a couple minutes to a local restaurant/bar to get some. the pizza cut up the roof of my mouth and i got a shirley instead of a beer for the happy hour special. it wasn't very good. i wished i had asked for milk instead.

on my walk back --

there's a lil tracy concert tomorrow at queen of hearts. i sort of want to go but i know i definitely won't/shouldn't. i do need to go to a punk show sometime though, hopefully soon.

i noticed a man praying on the street next to his car that was parallel parked to the sidewalk. at first, i was confused as to what was going on and hoped he was okay; then, i saw the rug and realized what he was doing. i almost wanted to say something, like salam, but figured that would be inappropriate and i shouldn't interrupt him, and it also would have made me look a bit bad, since he might have assumed i was muslim and maybe would have judged me for not dropping everything to pray like he was. though, i would hope someone as pious as he wouldn't judge like that either. i admired his devotion and submission to god.

i practiced being with my feelings and thoughts as they came up. i noticed my intial reaction was to push them away and pretend they don't exist. i instead tried to be with them, but this felt sort of foreign and i also didn't feel like i was doing it right. it takes practice, i guess. i also tried to consciously think about the underlying fears that the thoughts might have stemmed from.

the biggest news from today is that i will be getting a new work laptop! no more godforsaken ipad.

i'm ready to sleep but really need to work on that damn application.

- p

dear c,

after we hung up i immediately felt a bit relieved, i think because i felt like i had some time and space to think about things some more, but i think i've also been feeling like i have more space in my brain and day back so i can go about the things i need to do, because all of our agonizing talking has led me to avoid most of my responsibilities.

i listened to a lot of music today and tried to clean a bit, but i kept checking my phone in anticipation of a text or call from you that i knew wouldn't actually come.

i went a bit stir-crazy, not really feeling like doing anything i should be doing. for whatever delusional reason i thought it would be a good idea to wear your necklace so i could feel a bit closer to you this week while we take time apart.

when i found my necklace i noticed it was tangled up in the box. i freed it from the earrings. i noticed that it had somehow become knotted; i couldn't pry it apart in the bathroom, so i took it to my bedroom to try some more.

at first it felt impossible, and i thought it would remain entangled forever, but eventually something gave and with a bit of effort i figured out how to remove the knot and untangle the chain from the nameplate. what an apt metaphor! perhaps untangling our knotted relationship isn't as impossible as i thought it might be.

i spent the rest of the day reading the overthinking book, and i quickly realized that this was in fact our problem--not islam, not gender, not feeling like you cared more about the relationship than me, hell, not even communication--and i wished i had read this earlier. a lot of the things and perceived problems i have been thinking about lately really stem from the rumination that the book describes. i look forward to learning more about my overthinking and how we can solve this problem of relationship rumination together. at least i'd like to try that before i let you go.

- p

I haven't written much, on here or otherwise, in a while, even though I have been feeling a lot. I don't know if that's a good or a bad thing.

I'm moving to The Capitol tomorrow. I'm not looking forward to the actual move out, since it will involve a long, solo drive, making sure my stuff doesn't get stolen during my lease signing and walkthrough, hoping my friends show up to help me, lugging boxes out of cars and into the unit, deep cleaning the place, unpacking stuff, and having to wear a mask and thinking about my (what feels like) inevitable breakup and constantly feeling like everything I touch is dirty through it all. Not to mention I won't have my bed with me until Sunday, so I'll be sleeping on a sleeping bag on the floor the first night. I will greatly miss my firstwordly comforts. I have literally no other real furniture either- no couch or dining table, which I will have to procure somehow, and will probably take me a month to do so because I'm gone traveling for half of September anyway, so I will be in a constant state of half-opened cardboard boxes pilfered 20 years ago by my mother at her office and the Chewy boxes she's saved the past two years in anticipation of my move. With all the cleaning and lifting my unofficially self-diagnosed carpal tunnel is sure to flare up; along with my contact dermatitis from washing my hands way too much.

I guess we'll see how it goes. I'm really surprised I didn't blow up my relationship today even though I really wanted to. The same shit is cropping up again. I think Islam is beautiful but I have no desire to Practice it and Be Muslim; I don't think our COVID precautions align right now, and I don't know if that's something I can be patient about; I still don't feel very affirmed about my gender, and feel that I have to fit into a very specific box, and I just wish that he wouldn't even care if I wanted to go on T, and I don't, but I know if I did it would at the very least be some sort of conversation that I know would make him uncomfortable, but probably be a dealbreaker anyway, and all of these facts that don't actually impact anything materially still really bother me; I wish I had more self-respect for myself and didn't fantasize so much about things and saw that he really did hurt me, even if he loved me too, because what kind of person calls someone the r-word and constantly calls their personality awkward and thinks that's supposed to be endearing? But at the same time, my narration feels unreliable. When it's good, it feels so good; it's just that the good is rare, so I'm constantly chasing it.

I am learning that relationships with men feel both like training a dog and being one.

I wanted to kiss him on the nose but I didn't really know how, so instead I would rest my lips gently on the tip of it. His nose looked smooth, but felt a bit rough between my lips. Since then, I've been trying to replicate the feeling; an orange peel, my pilled comforter, a peach pit, rocks between my lips--but nothing feels quite the same.

earplugs, for the sirens;

a needle and thread to sew the hole in his Princess Jasmine squishmallow;

a necklace so i can ask him to put it on for me,
baring the nape of my neck to his slender fingers
and ask him to take it off at the end of the night too;

polaroids, so i can see the world through his eyes and he can see
the world through mine;

my glass nail file, slanted nail clippers, and cuticle pusher
because his hands peel at the edges ;

both computers;

bug spray, but i think i need to buy it there
because there is a 3 oz limit;

my sister's clothes;
my sister's backpack;

the justice shorts i'm wearing right now, fishnets, and thigh high striped socks

triolet

a poem of eight lines, typically of eight syllables each, rhyming abaaabab and so structured that the first line recurs as the fourth and seventh and the second as the eighth.

---

1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.

“I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.”

― Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

I can feel myself already starting to become toxic and mean. I find it hard to bring up things that I sort of find issue with, because it never feels like the right time to bring it up by the time I start to realize that it is a problem and I want to keep the peace. Communicating my feelings is actually very difficult for me, because I shove them away. Something must seriously be bothering me, as my mother correctly identified, as I haven't been able to sleep without interruption (my body wakes itself up twice-- once in the middle of the night, and more fully and uncannily, about 5-10 minutes my alarm goes off) for like three weeks now.

Today I cried on the phone with him for what felt like no reason, and still feels like no reason. It was deeply embarrassing and reminded me of the time I cried under the peppa pig blanket. I wanted to push everyone away but be held at the same time, a sick state of uncertainty, and then not really getting either.

Do you think I'm stupid? You must think I'm fucking stupid. Nothing sticks in my brain the way it's supposed to and I haven't read anything and I don't know anything about anything. It's fucking embarrassing at this point. I've gone the past 4,5,6 years without learning what the hell words like proletariat really mean and I can't understand what you say half the time and I'm too embarrassed to ask. They say you should surround yourself with smart people, but that's hard to do if you have a big ego and doing that makes you feel small. I like to pretend that it's all just one large bit-- it's just a test. I actually happen to know everything, I just pretend I don't because I want to see if YOU know what I know. Ok well, at least you find me attractive. Right? Do you think I'm ugly? Do you find me smart? What makes a smart person to you? Do you actually find me interesting, even though we like different things? Why do you care then, if you don't think I'm smart? I can't just be a pretty face to you, right?