Finally, I Threw It (12/22/08 Monday)

The vestige of attraction is still attached. The things I used to do conscious of Julie's presence I still find myself doing, but without meaning they are little more than habits. I hate habits. I found myself, on the way in, hoping to be seen by Julie on Nuckols. It was a sarcastic hope. This vestige and its attendant habits are, likely, little more than that.

*****

The second half of the day was nearly unbearable. People--the Whisperers--who never gave Julie the time of day before this all came down are suddenly her best friends, and Chris was sickeningly chummy. And by the way she played along, you'd think he'd saved her life. (I'm trying very hard not to throw this book across the room. I can hardly unclench my fists to write.) I'm not so jealous as angry. And hurt. I'm nothing--nothing to Julie, nothing to Chris, nothing to anyone there anymore. I used to have friends, and I thought Chris was one of them. I will NEVER understand why he did what he did. And all the rationale I get from anybody is, "Wouldn't you want to know if someone was writing about you?"! Does anyone have a fucking BRAIN?! (Don't throw the book. Unclench your fists.) Why do I have to have one? Why do I allow myself to talk myself out this madness called conformity? Why can't I accept the idiocy that has shunned me so that I might be one of them? I hate thinking. I hate feeling.