Everything's Done

And I just want it all over. I want things finalized, and finished and I want it over. I'm sick of fighting, and I'm sick of hurting, and I want it done.

I want the move done, and I want to move on with my life. I want Danny and Mona to move to his parents, so that I can start the process of finally getting past this complete clusterfuck that's been the last six months that should never have happened in the first place. I shouldn't have allowed it.

I thought I was doing a good thing, back before Danny and I broke up. Mona needed a place for her and Cora, and Kat and Brandon smoked, and so I really thought I was doing a good thing. I had no idea that Mona had an eye on my then-boyfriend. I didn't realize that I was going to end up breaking up with Danny. I honestly didn't realize my life was going to go to hell in a handbasket, or that things were going to get as completely ass-over-teakettle as they have in the last six months.

Danny and I broke up, and that might have been okay, if I hadn't then had to spend the next six months living in an apartment where Mona proceeded to run around naked, with her kid sleeping in either my living room or my dining room, and where she herself was plastered at every available opportunity across the lap of my ex-fiance. With her tongue shoved as far down his throat as she could manage, as though to scream to the world "Look, I have him now, nyah nyah nyah". It was petty, childish, and for the most part, just plain mean. Yes, he and I broke up. But there was no reason for her to jump directly into bed with him. And technically even if she *was* going to date him, she should have been seeing him somewhere other than the apartment. It was blatantly rude to be screwing around with him, and hanging on him, and making out with him, constantly, in front of me.

Between that, and the drama with Phillip, and how unhappy I was and how badly I ended up treated in that situation, I've been miserable for six months, pretty much steadily. And so by now, with all I want being to be more or less left alone...god, at this point I'm just frustrated. It isn't that I can't live with a roommate. I can, and don't even have a problem with it. But I shouldn't have to live with my ex-fiance and his new girlfriend. And I sure as shit shouldn't have to have it shoved in my face day in and day out.

And when I left for a month, I shouldn't have had to come back to town to find my posessions destroyed, and money missing and essentially, I simply shouldn't have had to come back and continue to be unhappy. I stated in clear terms that I wasn't coming back for that. I was coming back under the direct terms that I was taking over the apartment, and they were leaving. Because I did *not* want to deal with the three ring circus anymore.

***

And now it's done. The keys are returned. The apartment is empty, and now I'm alone. And now, finally, I can start to move on. The place is trashed, and it's going to take me some time to put it back together. Trinette will be here in two weeks, and I'll start rebuilding things from there. She'll be here until Steven gets back from Iraq, at which point she'll move on, and begin her new life as well. And the circle of life will continue, and this chapter of the last six months that has hurt so badly will finally be complete.

And I can heal.

I've been crying for the last few weeks. I've been a basket case. I'm still a basket case, and that's fine. I will put it back together, and I will pull it all around, and at some point I will be fine again. I have to be. But I will be able to do it without constantly having shit shoved in my face, and without having to pretend that everything is sunshine and happiness when it isn't. I won't have to play maid, and constantly be picking up after other people's messes. I won't be trying to pretend that everything is okay. That's over.

I don't know where it was that Mona or Danny got it into their heads that dirty dishes cleaned themselves, or that leaving food out for my cat to eat was alright. I don't understand how it was that as roommates they seemed to think it was alright for me to have to constantly need to move their laundry out of the washer or the dryer into their room, in order to do my own, and this was an acceptable arrangement. How I was the only one who ran a vacuum cleaner, and I had to scrub my living room carpet to clean black marks out of it in order for it to not look disgusting. That the kitchen floor was covered in food and grease, and I was the only person who ever swept or mopped it. I just don't understand how at the end of six months, Danny ran interference, and I understand that he tried very very hard to clean up after Mona so that I didn't have to do it all...but she never did. I just don't understand so many things. And in the end, I just have given up.

I accept that I am neurotically clean. I'm a neat freak. Which is why the condition of my apartment at the moment is making me insane. I like order and logic and all of those obsessive compulsive things. Mona, when she first moved in here, claimed to like all of them too. But it turned out to be a complete fabrication. She doesn't clean, unless it's for show. She doesn't wash dishes. She doesn't vacuum. She doesn't take out trash, or put things away. She does laundry, but doesn't hang it up. It will sit in baskets until you cannot tell which is clean or what is dirty. I just don't understand. Why lie? If you're a messy person, that's fine. But don't claim to be something you're not.

There's nothing *wrong* with being yourself. But because I was expecting someone more like me, it drove me crazy, because I ended up being the maid, and ended up watching her hang all over Danny. For months. And I've since learned she only does that, hangs on him, in front of me. It's sort of like marking territory, and I find it kind of sad. I'm not trying to get Danny back. I have my own freaking problems, and trying to get Danny back would simply add to them at this point. I don't *want* to steal him away, and I've said that, repeatedly. And she never once listened.

I don't get it. I probably never will. I should probably just be grateful that I have my peace and quiet and peace of mind now. The apartment will be put to rights. I will steam clean the floors. I will slowly fix things. And then I will put it all behind me and life will move on.

leftovers

Funny how things work. I like to cook. Not so much with the eating though. I mean, sure, I eat. The problem is that I don't eat nearly enough to warrant the amount of food that I cook. And I enjoy cooking. Which creates leftovers. Which actually has been working out fine for the last several months, since I had Phil around, because he can eat. He eats quite a bit. As he puts it, "I like food." And he does. So it worked out pretty well for both of us.

I opened my refrigerator today, and just sighed. It's almost completely full. Not because I don't eat leftovers. I actually do eat them. I have no problems at all reheating things. It's just that I don't eat large enough quantities, or fast enough, to use up the amounts that are in there. I have enough food in there to feed three or four people for the next two weeks...or to feed Phil for the next three or four days, if he's working. And it depressed me.

I'm just bummed out. I don't quite know how to cope. I was used to having him around, and it feels weird, not talking to him before I go to sleep. Everything about, well, everything suddenly feels strange for me. The food everywhere that I know will probably not get eaten. The phone that I know won't ring and be him. No silly TV shows to sit and laugh about.

I have to figure out a way to get the rest of his medications to him, because I forgot to put them with his stuff, and I'm not looking forward to that. In general, it just feels like there's a piece of something missing. During the rare moments that my mind has blanked out and I've drifted from what's missing, I tune out, and wonder why I feel so out of sorts, and then it dawns on me what's missing. Phil's missing. That's what's wrong. And I can't quite block the feeling of loss.

I've been asleep a lot for the last few days. A combination of depression, general malaise, and a massive allergy attack that's knocked me down pretty hard. I haven't completely lost it. I've gone to the park with Danny and Cora. Dragged my ass out of bed, gotten dressed, made myself function like a real live person, because I know better than to just let myself hide away from the world. I can't afford to drift into a depression so deep that I can't function at all.

Things are moving forward, in spite of everything that has me so unhappy. The move, both Mona and Danny moving out, and Trinette moving in, is commencing. Probably in the next couple of weeks. Trinette turned her notice in yesterday where she is, and Mona is turning hers in, I think tomorrow morning here.

I've found a job, and I'll be working shortly. Once Trinette has moved in here, I'll be both watching her little girl after school until she gets home from work, and then I'll be working myself part-time. Things are stabilizing, in spite of myself. It'll take some adjusting, on everyone's part, but it's probably the best thing I could have done for myself.

So while looking around me, right now, I feel like something is missing, and it is, and I'm sad, I know that I can't stay this sad forever. Something will give, one way or another soon enough. I can't just walk in the same place, treading the same path, indefinitely. That isn't healthy for me. I either need to move forward, or take a few steps back. I chose to push forward.

Maybe Phil will come back eventually, and maybe he won't. Maybe I'll fall flat on my face working, though somehow I doubt it. The job itself is ideally suited to me, and I should do just fine. I'm sort of afraid of how things will work out toward the end of the year, when it's time for Trinette to move on, and move away, leaving me living on my own, but even that will probably work out just fine. It's more of a fear thing because I haven't actually lived completely on my own since I was eighteen, before I had my daughter.

Wow. All that because there were leftovers in the fridge.