I called him on Tuesday to go for coffee and talk but he wanted to get it over with over the phone. I felt too vulnerable but he was annoyed with my feelings. He wanted to just put this all aside and just carry on being actors. He was so cold and insensitive. At one point, I couldn't tell if he'd hung up on me, so I closed my cellphone. I was on my way to work when I made this call, and after the insensitive blow he shot at me, I felt awful and ugly. I was feeling hateful towards men, which I don't want to. This bothers me, being hateful towards any group of people, because you can't think clearly. I'm reading, S.C.U.M. Manifesto and Valerie Solanas sounded angry and bitter. It was reading as crazy, but at some points throughout my day, my way of thinking matched hers. I was thinking of all the men I've ever encounted, all that I'm related to and the "decent" ones and lumped them all in the hateful pile. I just feel completely humiliated and stomped on by every man. It's a horrible feeling to have so much hate, but I feel so scarred and bruised that I don't know if or when I'll heal from this. Yeah, I've been heart-broken before, but I always hope it's the last one, that someone will come along and wipe all that hurt away. It's like auditions, where the rejection still stings when I don't get the role, but once I do get cast in something, it was all worth it. With acting, I can have a more positive perspective, more level-headed, but with love/sex, it's one big disaster. The worst thing I could get is for people to get my hopes up instead of supporting what I feel and say. Just ask any rape survivor on what it's like to have your feelings unsupported and shit upon.
Yesterday, I was in so much emotional pain that I had to fight back tears. Wearing sunglasses is a wonderful disguise.
On the same day, I was on the phone with my mom when she asked what was wrong with me. I will always lie about my hurt feelings to anyone. I don't want to ever speak about my depression, especially when caused by a heart-breaker. My dad was asking his usual questions about the days of the week and about mom when I yelled him answers at him. He thought I was angry at him but I told him I was tired and he was getting repetitive. I can't reveal my heart-break to my family or anyone else, but especially my family. I've come out to my mom and here I am tormented over a man? If I go on about what's in my heart all the time, I'll be labelled a drama queen.
The only outlet I had was my diary, so while riding the bus and enduring the bumpiness of the ride, I wrote often how I hated him. I remembered how he was unresponsive to kissing, how he was only interested in coming and not the act. He was a typical man. It's so rare that a man will spend time on being naked with me. I feel like a time-waster and not someone they enjoy making love to. I felt like something he fucked.
I don't know when next I'll have sex with a woman. I don't know if I have the confidence to seek out a woman and have something long-term or even torrid and steamy. The only good thing would be for me to script this, make a novel out of my entire sex life and make it a comedic story. Sometimes I wonder if this is some cosmic joke, so I could incorporate that into the storyline.
I have bushels of journels as my resource, so I should pull them out and write my broken heart out!