September's almost over. Next week will be a month since I've been here. Good God.
I talked to Tim today finally. He says we'll get together at some point - I'll believe it when I see it.
OK, it's time to write this theatre history paper and get it out of the way already, so I can call Bret with a clear slate.
This paper is taking a bit longer than it should - maybe it's just the working environment. I feel so uncomfortable right now. Clarissa keeps hovering, on the verge of saying something but not saying anything. Libby and Joanne are currently holed up in Joanne's room chatting away, thus forcing me into a semi-voluntary isolationist state. I don't really feel up to going out and being social, but I don't really like knowing that everyone else in the flat is cut off from me.
Clarissa. She tells me she's worried about me - that she feels "we either understand each other too well or not at all." I don't *want* to understand her too well, at the risk of sounding like a tempermental 5-year-old. That's how I'm feeling right now - I'm almost ready to just burst into tears, but I'm not about to do that around here. That's part of the reason why I haven't called Bret yet (that and the fact that it's not even 8am his time) - he's never seen me in that state. There are so few people I let see me like that - and I don't think there's a single person here I'd want to see me like that. Which is why I left the canteen yesterday at lunch when "Amazing Grace" came on - I suddenly got an image of my father's casket, with Capt. Miliano breaking down during his eulogy and my mother griping my hand
That thud was me chucking this notebook onto the table. I forced myself not to cry yesterday. I can do it again today. Although really the only thing I want to do is have a good, hard sobfest. And have someone I love hold me. That's all I've ever wanted out of one of these fits - not someone trying to talk to me, or calm me down, just someone to hold me and let me cry.
Good grief. I've gotten horribly sappy and pathetic and whatnot. Screw that - I will not be one of those "weepy women" I detest. Strength, remember?
I need soup.
I called Bret, essentially waking him up and having a long, rambly, and somewhat unfulfilling conversation with him. Though I did get to hear him tell me he loves me, which was...thrilling, for lack of a better word. Good grief, I'm a sap.
Then I went to a play with a bunch of people from the program, including three of my four flatmates (*not* Clarissa, thank heavens), and enjoyed the show immensely. It was the group dynamic before and after that I didn't enjoy - I felt like I was thrown back into high school. I don't know who I am here. I'm not...cute, for one thing, which is one of my defining characteristics at school. Here, though, I'm nothing, it seems. I blend into the woodwork quite easily. And, being picky as I always am, I don't want the attentions of the one person seemingly willing to give them to me, but only from those whose lives I've left completely unaffected. I talk and talk about nothing, hoping to draw closer to them and succeeding only in pushing them farther away. When will I learn to shut up?
I'm doing the same thing with Bret, too, I feel - I ended up calling him a second time after the show, completely unable to explain to myself or him why I felt compelled to call him. I felt like I needed to hear the voice of someone who gave a damn about me, because I certainly wasn't hearing that around here. I still feel the need for a good cry, and I hate it. I despise myself for being so weak. I'm going to have to live my life alone in the end, and I know it - so why the hell can't I figure that out and stop being so damned dependent on people? Why do I keep having to reassure myself that someone cares? Whether they do or not, life goes on, and I need to deal with what it gives me.
It's late. I'm tired, and I'm in a funk. I'm sure it'll pass in a little while, as it always does. Until then, this is where I'll need to release the pent-up emotion that comes from being low in a strange land and not being able to trust anyone.