Ok, I suppose I owe any who read this journal an explanation.
Junior year of high school, I dated this girl, who after long amounts of time without communication, broke up with me. This was partially the fault of a local Non-denom church, and I was a mite pissed, but I got over it thanks to a year of very little contact. (This is kind of funny because we go to a fairly small high school.) Funny thing: She asked me to prom. I went, out of courtesy, and went through about the same treatment as I'd gotten the past year,
First year of college passes almost without contact. At one point I do find out that she had a boyfriend, and then towards the end of Freshman year of college, contact resumes. We begin to flirt again and so forth. I find out all sorts of nasty details of her exploits, tell her about a few of my own and such. That summer, we're dating in everything but name, even though we were 2.5 hours apart. When I actually bring up the subject (august-ish) she makes me wait a month on tenterhooks before saying no. Huge fight ensues.
Partway through fall quarter, second year, she apologizes, and admits to fantasizing about me. I tell her to think about even going on a date, and to that she agrees, but never makes up her mind as to when.
Conversation between us becomes a passing hello.
A month or so ago, we had this huge fight in which she suckerpunched me emotionally, and I cut off all contact. A few days ago, she e-mailed me this godawfully long apology, and I'm confused as to her intent.
I know she's a user, but I know I drive her mad because she can't "help" me. Mainly due to a lack of faith in God, and her own inadequacies in solving emotional problems. So, over the years, its been apology after "I don't know," and its lost all meaning. This one seems sincere, but I'm not certain it is.
Second part:
I don't feel my medication is working, and I'm just miserable because of school, work, and a whole lot of drama. Such unhappiness makes me long to regress back to self-mutilation, even though my most recent foray into its clutches proved fruitless.
There. Sorry to bore you all.
Junior year of high school, I dated this girl, who after long amounts of time without communication, broke up with me. This was partially the fault of a local Non-denom church, and I was a mite pissed, but I got over it thanks to a year of very little contact. (This is kind of funny because we go to a fairly small high school.) Funny thing: She asked me to prom. I went, out of courtesy, and went through about the same treatment as I'd gotten the past year,
First year of college passes almost without contact. At one point I do find out that she had a boyfriend, and then towards the end of Freshman year of college, contact resumes. We begin to flirt again and so forth. I find out all sorts of nasty details of her exploits, tell her about a few of my own and such. That summer, we're dating in everything but name, even though we were 2.5 hours apart. When I actually bring up the subject (august-ish) she makes me wait a month on tenterhooks before saying no. Huge fight ensues.
Partway through fall quarter, second year, she apologizes, and admits to fantasizing about me. I tell her to think about even going on a date, and to that she agrees, but never makes up her mind as to when.
Conversation between us becomes a passing hello.
A month or so ago, we had this huge fight in which she suckerpunched me emotionally, and I cut off all contact. A few days ago, she e-mailed me this godawfully long apology, and I'm confused as to her intent.
I know she's a user, but I know I drive her mad because she can't "help" me. Mainly due to a lack of faith in God, and her own inadequacies in solving emotional problems. So, over the years, its been apology after "I don't know," and its lost all meaning. This one seems sincere, but I'm not certain it is.
Second part:
I don't feel my medication is working, and I'm just miserable because of school, work, and a whole lot of drama. Such unhappiness makes me long to regress back to self-mutilation, even though my most recent foray into its clutches proved fruitless.
There. Sorry to bore you all.