16 September 2010

Picking at scabs

Is it a crack in my heretofore steely carapace? Maybe he wonders that. Tell the truth, I remembered that I had "accidentally" mailed him today only when I was orgasming by myself a few moments ago. How bad does that sound? It is 44 days since I last contacted him.

I forwarded on a "funny" e-mail to the old distribution list today. It wasn't automatic, I added [first name]-ex-boss and [first name]-customer-guy and as his first name is the same my pernicious e-mail records flashed his name to me too. And I thought, What the hell, and added his name to the list (they were all in blind copy so no-one will know but me)

And I forgot about it.

I had a busy day at work and then [writer-guy] mailed me to talk about his cock and my cunt and how nice it would be if they were flowing in each others general direction, and I had a busy and almost productive day at work and felt useful and valuable. And my friend needed my help tonight.

A minor physical task, bringing her something she had left behind in the office, but I did it and I felt useful and valuable all over again, right up until I got home and my internet is still not working. A red winking dot signifying my cut-offness from the internet world. From my friends and family in other countries, which is most of them. My inability to speak the local language means I have no chance of putting this right without asking someone for help; and then I ponder why do I find it so fucking hard to do that? My friend who I helped earlier would be quite happy to help me out the same way if I were to only ask.

I would have to tidy up before she came around though; keep her from seeing my soul-dustbin flat. And I wonder, is this the reason I want a partner, someone to do the chores, or at least someone that I could share chores with; someone to make me feel gracious about doing them and I could kid myself on that I was useful and valuable for doing them? And hey, I have gone off topic again, take that, ex-[first name].

Is it me or is coming and crying at the same time a known buzz? Perhaps I am just using it to heighten emotions. I wonder if he has checked his secret e-mail account and is sat there pondering whether, no, what to reply. I have worked my answer out though. "Ooops, sorry, used old distribution list!" to whatever he replies. That statement alone.

Of course, I may think differently if, like last time, he says I was watching for your mail every day, so glad to hear from you. But I shouldn't say anything different. Flaunt the mask of indifference at him. Good the internet is down now, otherwise I would have to check... Except I forgot earlier, when I mailed [writer-guy] instead. In some strange value table, attention from [writer-guy], someone I shall probably never meet in real life, is more important than attention from ex-[first name]. I suppose I should take this as a good sign, of recovery, of equilibrium, but I fear to get caught in a new obsession.

1 comment:

Gita Smith said...

Good that your internet is down so you won't check for his reply obsessively. Bad that your internet is down so you won't see this comment.
Crying and orgasming? only rarely and then only after an extremely intense one. It's as if all the body parts want release, isn't it? Tristesse, the French call it. Or is that just regular sadness? But look, wouldn't it be better if you shut off the laptop during sex to prevent random regrettable emails? I'm just saying...