Monday, August 04, 2003
WELL!
I am home. Safe and sound. And with a pretty great tan, if I do say so myself. I worked hard at it. Spent every day on the beach. Ate lots of food and even gambled a bit. I won $150 one evening at the casino and that was quite a highlight for me since I am usually living a life based on poverty. Overall, it was a VERY relaxing week and I feel truly rested and rejuvenated.
I should be able to sit here and type for hours about all of the adventures I had and all of the crazy shit that happened to Paul and me while we were living it up. Unfortunately, that isn’t the case. As the plane landed in the Bahamas, Paul decided that he is no longer a drinker. Funny, since he blacked out from too much vodka on the Thursday before we left. Paul also decided that he is no longer a pot smoker, cept that he smoked every bit of the pot that I bought while there. Paul also decided that he doesn’t smoke cigarettes, cept that he smoked every pack I brought down with me. Gosh.
While the trip was totally relaxing and while Paul and I didn’t fight barely at all while in the Bahamas, the trip wasn’t that much fun. I was in bed by 11pm every night. Paul didn’t want to do ANYTHING. He wanted to go to the beach, make dinner at home, and watch TV. And that’s what we did. I catered to his every whim while we were there. I didn’t want us to spend the week arguing, so I sucked it up and did whatever he wanted to do. However, now that I am home, I hate him for it. I hate him especially since he has spent the two nights since we have been home, drinking. Yet when I drank a few beers each night of the vacation, I got an ear full of reprimands. Hypocrite fuck.
Paul and I barely even kissed on the mouth while we were there. Romance was not even a factor. It was like two boys…wait…two BORING boys hanging out in the Caribbean, catching up on episodes of Will and Grace and Friends. I know I said that I would do whatever I wanted to do on the trip, despite what Paul had to say, but when it came down to it, I just couldn’t. The native people were pretty aggressive and did everything in their power to rob us of all of our money. They were mean and nasty. Freeport (the island of Grand Bahama) is a third world country and the people are direct products of their environment. It was scary to go out and tool the island by yourself and even more importantly, I don’t understand why Paul couldn’t take the step down and do what I wanted to do. At least to get out of the room more than we did.
You ask him if we had a great time on the trip and he will surely say yes. Basically because he did everything he wanted to do. Go to the beach, make dinner in our suite, and be in bed watching TV by 7pm every night.
God, I so don’t want to talk about it anymore. I’ve barely told anyone about the trip. I think I’m not ready to confront it yet. Still stings a little.
Don’t get me wrong…I didn’t have a terrible time at all. It just wasn’t the kind of trip that I get off on.
It was very relaxing. What else can I say?
Paul just came and had lunch with me at work. It made me sad. Knowing that we are cruising for a heart breaking break-up. It’s inevitable. I’m sure of it now. And I just can’t talk about it at the moment.
Got a week of rehearsals and work ahead of me. I was in a great mood before Paul came for lunch. Now, I feel like I could burst into tears. I don’t want to hurt him. I don’t want ME to hurt either.
But how long can I keep this relationship going? Is it really time for us to call it quits? I’m confused about love and I’m confused about relationships. After this one, I feel like I never want one ever again. I’ve been living on the theory that I just need to take everything day by day. But does an answer ever come that way? Am I just putting off something I need to take care of? Should I let it continue to see how it turns out?
God, my head is swimming with confusion.
Work is over now.
I should go home.
I am home. Safe and sound. And with a pretty great tan, if I do say so myself. I worked hard at it. Spent every day on the beach. Ate lots of food and even gambled a bit. I won $150 one evening at the casino and that was quite a highlight for me since I am usually living a life based on poverty. Overall, it was a VERY relaxing week and I feel truly rested and rejuvenated.
I should be able to sit here and type for hours about all of the adventures I had and all of the crazy shit that happened to Paul and me while we were living it up. Unfortunately, that isn’t the case. As the plane landed in the Bahamas, Paul decided that he is no longer a drinker. Funny, since he blacked out from too much vodka on the Thursday before we left. Paul also decided that he is no longer a pot smoker, cept that he smoked every bit of the pot that I bought while there. Paul also decided that he doesn’t smoke cigarettes, cept that he smoked every pack I brought down with me. Gosh.
While the trip was totally relaxing and while Paul and I didn’t fight barely at all while in the Bahamas, the trip wasn’t that much fun. I was in bed by 11pm every night. Paul didn’t want to do ANYTHING. He wanted to go to the beach, make dinner at home, and watch TV. And that’s what we did. I catered to his every whim while we were there. I didn’t want us to spend the week arguing, so I sucked it up and did whatever he wanted to do. However, now that I am home, I hate him for it. I hate him especially since he has spent the two nights since we have been home, drinking. Yet when I drank a few beers each night of the vacation, I got an ear full of reprimands. Hypocrite fuck.
Paul and I barely even kissed on the mouth while we were there. Romance was not even a factor. It was like two boys…wait…two BORING boys hanging out in the Caribbean, catching up on episodes of Will and Grace and Friends. I know I said that I would do whatever I wanted to do on the trip, despite what Paul had to say, but when it came down to it, I just couldn’t. The native people were pretty aggressive and did everything in their power to rob us of all of our money. They were mean and nasty. Freeport (the island of Grand Bahama) is a third world country and the people are direct products of their environment. It was scary to go out and tool the island by yourself and even more importantly, I don’t understand why Paul couldn’t take the step down and do what I wanted to do. At least to get out of the room more than we did.
You ask him if we had a great time on the trip and he will surely say yes. Basically because he did everything he wanted to do. Go to the beach, make dinner in our suite, and be in bed watching TV by 7pm every night.
God, I so don’t want to talk about it anymore. I’ve barely told anyone about the trip. I think I’m not ready to confront it yet. Still stings a little.
Don’t get me wrong…I didn’t have a terrible time at all. It just wasn’t the kind of trip that I get off on.
It was very relaxing. What else can I say?
Paul just came and had lunch with me at work. It made me sad. Knowing that we are cruising for a heart breaking break-up. It’s inevitable. I’m sure of it now. And I just can’t talk about it at the moment.
Got a week of rehearsals and work ahead of me. I was in a great mood before Paul came for lunch. Now, I feel like I could burst into tears. I don’t want to hurt him. I don’t want ME to hurt either.
But how long can I keep this relationship going? Is it really time for us to call it quits? I’m confused about love and I’m confused about relationships. After this one, I feel like I never want one ever again. I’ve been living on the theory that I just need to take everything day by day. But does an answer ever come that way? Am I just putting off something I need to take care of? Should I let it continue to see how it turns out?
God, my head is swimming with confusion.
Work is over now.
I should go home.
