It's been a crazy ridiculous week, even with my sleep tank constantly running on fumes... something I should used to by now, I just have been out of my head for the past couple days and I don't really have anyone to talk to anymore.

 I guess I alienated a lot of my friends in the break-up process even though she seems to be surviving. Less sad music, a more joyful pothead to say the least and more frequent discussions of the co-workers that she finds attractive. She has even been trying to pretend to be interested in my life again, since I told her I missed having a best friend but I can tell those wounds do not need to be re-aggravated so I try not to tell her all the people that creep on me or too many details about my sex life.

So, speaking of, that list that I made (displayed below) was a sham.

I'm trying, I really am but there is that brain and need for instant gratification again. 

So I have a couple of stories to tell. For starters, the new open relationship has some constraints around it already that I've had some trouble tip-toeing around despite our distance.

One, because I fooled around with his childhood best friend. It just happened.
Two, because he is coming up to visit soon. I haven't told him.
Three, because the term and conditions of our thing stipulate that the only penis I touch ("That's so misogynistic and pathetic, doesn't that bother you?" she quipped.) is his. Girls are fair game. I'm not complaining.

I'm still a dick, the whole 'in touch and honest with my feelings' awareness has been fading in and out like a radio station set to dial I didn't pick to really listen to.

Also, I'm starting to feel uncharacteristically apprehensive about this weekend. 

Should I get her a birthday present to make up for the fact that I stupidly forget to tell her he'd be here? What does one even give to their kind-of-ex who they still share a bathroom with and have to see all the time because cheap rent is hard to find on short notice?

Like, would an assortment of different fruits be appropriate? If there is going to be a projectile thrown in my direction, I'd prefer it to have the density of a pear or something. They are pretty soft on impact and she has a mean arm when she's drunk.
 

 

The other story is that she finally unpinned the note I wrote her from the bulletin board in her room the other day knowing that he'd be here and her reminder not the relapse into her addiction was futile since I have been off peddling elsewhere. I took a picture of it for posterity--she told me it had been up for over a month and that I never noticed. I also never noticed how articulate I am: