"One part lullaby, two parts fear"

I'm listening to the Folk Implosion CD I bought on an odd whim. I just fought with Will, and I'm feeling like a shit. And every sentence here is starting with "I" which is just reinforcing the feeling of my own self-absorption. So I'm dedicating the rest of this page to Will. I'm a big fuck-up, and I guess I end up treating people like shit most of the time. He gets the worst of me. He puts up with me, and I haven't quite figured out why. Once upon a time it was because he loved me, and now? It hurts to know I brought all of this on myself. I care about him. I love him. And it's completely horrible that I have thrown it all away. It reminds me of that scene in The Princess Bride where Buttercup is dreaming and this old woman is screaming "Boo!" and she asks her "Why do you do this?" The woman says to her "You had love in your arms, and what did you do with it? You threw it away like a piece of garbage. So go on and bow down to her if you want. Bow down to the Queen of Garbage, the Queen of Putrescence, the Queen of Filth... Boo. Boo! BOOOOOOOOOO!" I mean, it's kind of a campy thing to think of, but I love that movie, and it makes me sad to ponder being a Queen of Garbage. I'm sorry, Will. I know you don't want to hear that, but I am. I'm a penitant little wretch and I just wish there was some way I could be forgiven.

I keep thinking of the good parts of this relationship. I've spent a lot of the time I had with him taking it for granted. I'm just wondering where I started to let it all slip away, where I started to devalue it, why I decided that it wasn't worth preserving anymore. I'm not sure. Maybe I just needed a change of pace. Obviously, I did that the absolutely wrong way and there's no justifying my actions in that line of thinking. I'm afraid that's what it boils down to, though. I probably should be dumped just on principle, since I was so completely oblivious to the pain that would cause him. I didn't think. I never do. I'm a dumbass and the bitch girlfriend I never wanted to be. That sucks. I always thought when I finally found someone I could love that I would always be loving and attentive and giving and... perfect. Apparently the only perfection I attained was a complete lack thereof. Maybe I'm not cracked up to be anybody's girlfriend. I'm a pretty shitty girl to love. I'm emotional and temperamental, I ask too much of a person. I'm a bitch. I need someone to be a bitch right back to me in the "See, how do YOU like it?" vein. Will has always been too good to me. He has always been patient and gentle and kind and forgiving and loving. And I took advantage of that. He always made time for me, humoring my drama queen nature. He gave me the attention I needed so badly. He appreciated my quirkiness. He let me open up. But something in me has warped, because I'm not that nice girl anymore. And I guess that's what he wants. Some days I'd like to be that way, too. But most days I am a troublemaker and a brat, and in the latest of my escapades I have been a downright asshole. While causing trouble may be cute if it's innocent, I crossed the line. Now I pick on him and tell him he sucks and just generally act like a jerk. Where did that come from? Why do I do that? I love him. Why don't I fucking act like it? What's wrong with me?

I said I was dedicating this page to Will. I should stop talking about myself.

Will is a wonderful boy. He is fun to be with. He is a smart guy and he is very sweet. He bought me warm fuzzy clothes so I wouldn't freeze to death in the winter. He tells me amusing stories like his version of Io. He finds The Doors orgasmic. He is silly and serious, studying hard in his underwear. He is sexy, especially in a kilt and hat with red hair glued to it. He has a perfect goatee. He is a lunatic; he can go around in a sweatshirt with the sleeves rolled up in the middle of winter. He has an awesome scar on his knee where no hair will grow that I like to touch because it's so smooth and ticklish. I know it bugs him when I do that, so I try to control myself, but it's so... I dunno. I just dig it. I like to smother him in kisses and pinch his butt. He makes me happy. He makes me feel loved and appreciated. He lets me be a big dork. He takes me out for coffee and talks to me about stuff that's more important than what's happening tomorrow. His family likes me. He gives me tummy rubs. He is an amazing lover. He tells me he loves me. Often. And those are just some of the reasons why I love him and think he is the cat's pyjamas.

Will rules.

Perhaps someday he will love me again. That would be really cool. If he does, I will definitely be a better girlfriend. I will bake him cookies and send him stupidly mushy love letters and never make him feel unloved or used or abused. I will hug him and be the first to say "I love you." I will even leave his scar tissue alone, except when really, unbearably tempted. I will cover him with massage oil. I will wake him in the morning with kisses. And everything will be perfect and we will never fight. Okay, maybe that last part is unrealistic, but I vow to stop being such a horrid bitch, to be sure, so perhaps we will fight less. Is that enough? Is that being a perfect girlfriend? I really want to do it right. I know my last attempt was pretty messed up, and I want to learn to do it properly. All you need is love, right? Well, I've got it. Just tell me what to do with it, baby.

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