So, yeah, it's been a frustrating day. I mean, I love this new brain and I love knowing that the frustrations and problems are temporary. I just wish I could turn it off sometimes, you know? Just that whole male/female, why doesn't he like me, am I not good enough crap. I know I'm good enough. I know that if someone doesn't like me it's not personal and that there could be nothing between us anyway. I know that the past is past is past.

But it's frustrating that everything is always so hard. Why am I the only one with no one to love me? And not getting married? And not having kids? And I don't even want those things. So WHY am I so different and everything is a struggle?

I know I always get emotional at the weekend of my period. Maybe that's all it is. Otherwise I'm okay with it all. Or I can push it away, at least. But I'm lonely. I want to be in a relationship. There - I said it. But most of all I just want to turn the emotions off and go climb under something. But I can't do that anymore. The down side of this medication is that I have to deal with stuff instead of sleeping for a week. So maybe I'm really not ready to get involved anyway. Not that I have a choice.

I don't know. I just don't.

MOTHER FUCKER! What is wrong with me? Now that I have a "normal" mind I thought this would stop. I HATE men. If I wasn't so fucking horny I would see no use for them whatsoever. I want to stop. WHAT THE FUCK HAVE THEY EVER DONE FOR ME? EVERY SINGLE FUCKING ONE OF THE CREATES NOTHING BUT TROUBLE. Can't I turn this off? Can't I just swear off men forever and just be fucking happy for while? FUCK!!

It's so sad. So embarrassing, really. How is it, after all of this time, that I still consider him a viable option? In the three and a half years that I have known him it's been game after game after game. But I don't want to play anymore. I want to let go and move on. Why can't I let go? I jumped off the bridge, I quit smoking. I can convince myself of anything. And it's time to start working on de-faberizing once and for all. Sadly, I'm so brave until he gives me a snippet of attention and fans the eternal flame of home. Mutherfucker.

Well, here's an interesting story. I decided to move on - as you can see by the last entry. And Rebecca mailed her "I found you a man" message - funny. And then I met this guy - a DHL tech - and get an instant crush. I was so excited to have a crush, to have broken the spell.

And the very next day - yesterday - he called. Fucker! He's got this weird sixth sense or something. Pisses me off. And, of course, I'm picking out rings and picking first dance songs and all we did was talk for half an hour. But he was Fabian. Fabe. You know? And I'm a little drunk so I'm gonna go karaoke. Cheers!

HE DOESN'T WANT YOU, BEVERLY

LET GO AND FIND SOMEONE WHO DOES!

FOR FUCK'S SAKE ALREADY

It's almost seven months. Seven months! And still I lie here awake and wonder what I could do or say to get him back. What made me actually pull out the pen was that I started thinking about the book that I bought for his birthday and how much trouble I went through to get it. And he knew. And I was thinking that I was okay during the good times - I obviously tried to make him happy. I just didn't know what to do when that didn't work. If anyone in this world that could understand that, it should be him. And I wonder if he's with someone new. A big part of me really hopes that he is so I'll know that I didn't totally fuck him up. Although I don't want to know if he is. It surprises me but I just don't want to know. Is it that I just don't want to let go? Because, seriously, I need a pepto every time I think of it. And that part of me that doesn't want to know, that glimmer of hope that someday out of the blue, he'll call, still says a silent prayer every fucking time the phone rings or I check my email.

Seven months ago I was saying why would I want to be with this guy, he's not the one for me so why should I even bother. And tonight I'm lying here thinking that I wish I could just erase it all from his memory and start with a clean slate. And who knows? Maybe some day, some year it will be him and I will get a chance. Or maybe all this means that better things are right around the corner.

Well, I'm sitting here by the phone, waiting for him to call. Well, literally, I am by the phone but - and I do want him to call - I'm not desperate for it. Just trying to have faith that he will call and hope that it's not too late.

It's funny, though. I'm not afraid to give, I'm not afraid to bear my soul to him, I'm not afraid to let him inside. Is it because I don't think he'll want to? Or is it because, just by recognizing that all I have held back, I will now be able to give it?

What I don't know is what to do or say to make him forgive me. How do I get him to trust in me again? Is that even possible? The funny thing is also that, even if he is with someone else, I think he will eventually recognize that we belong together.

Just call, Fabian. Just call.

So, if the silver lining of the horse accident was that it made me hit rock bottom and straighten my life out, then maybe the silver lining in this one is that it will bring Fabian back to me. Or at least take me off his black-ball list and open a window.

He called yesterday. Of course, I have us walking down the aisle (so to speak! so to speak!) and he wouldn't talk about anything but the accident. But, like a said, a window.

And here's another interesting thing that I've been thinking about. I honestly had no idea that I had so many issues with my mother but a new one came to light yesterday.

I called to tell her about the accident. I'm talking away and I could tell she was barely listening. And then she's like "well I should go and cook breakfast for your father". I spent the whole night waiting for it to be a time that I could call home and that's what I get. About 10 minutes of her distracted conversation and then nothing. And I could say well, really, the accident wasn't that bad. No one was seriously injured and yes, we were very lucky that it turned out as it did. But she always does this. She always has. Even, I remember when Dave and I had the bike accident, a few days later I had a lot of back pain and I could barely breathe. I was so scared. But she said to dad 'you take her to the emergency room because I'm cooking supper.

I remember when I was younger, before Debra and I would be so excited about something and waiting all day for her to finally come home from work and when she did I would run and greet her at the door and she'd tell me to leave her alone for a while. I knew she worked hard and was tired but I was a little kid! And things like that happened often. I started doing everything I could to make her happy, to make her life easier. Obviously I was a kid and not an angel but all the babysitting and housework. And if I didn't want to, she'd just start in on the guilt trip. And when I would go to her for a hug - I was near suicidal as a teenager for christ sake - she always ALWAYS pulled away first, before I was ready. No wonder I have spent my adult years wanting to reach out for a hug but never doing so. And the couple of times that Fabian make me stay and cry. I pulled away first. Not because I was ready to but because I felt like I was - I don't know - inconveniencing him or something.

And yesterday was the first time that I really thought 'you know, that hurt me and it's always hurt me'. I feel myself reaching out to her less and less. And less. I won't talk to her about it at all because she'll pull a Verlie Winter and I really have no time or patience for that. She has gone from the being my world to being my irriation. And that's sad. But what's really sad is that I don't even care anymore. And I mean it's really sad for her because she's losing me.

Oh, the irony of it all! I was in a car accident tonight - last night, I guess. Fuckin' bitch! Just t-boned me when she went through a red light. How inconsiderate of me to interrupt her phone conversation.

Anyway, that was just after 5pm. So I came home... oh yeah, I forgot to mention that she slammed into my door and my head bounced off the window. So I came home in a bit of pain. Neck, shoulder, head, nice red blotch all down my face (which will probably turn a lovely shade of purple). Couldn't sleep - as seems to be the norm for me in these situations. What a fucking bitch! So I got a little upset and called Fabian. His phone was off but I left a message and he hasn't replied.

Anyway, the irony that I began with is that I'm finally reaching out. After all of this time, I finally needed him and turned to him. But it's too late. He's gone.

And I can't sleep. Fucking bitch!

It's kind of funny - and yet kind of sad - but I'm still waiting for him to contact me. I'm pretty sure he won't because his responses to me since we broke up the last time have been different. But there is this glimmer of hope that has yet to fade away. I periodically dream that he emails me back and it drives me crazy because I have such hope when I check my email for the first time that day. And sometimes when I imagine him he's saying I love you and sometimes he's saying leave me alone.

But I have this amazing patience about the whole deal. It's very weird. I know that I am waiting for him and he will either contact me and all will be fine or he won't and the hope will eventually just peter out. And that's okay. I love this version of me and I know that whatever happens will work out for the best.