Therapy

I finally accepted that I can't solve my issues by myself.

I always thought that therapy was for the weak. (Sorry to those of you who have been in therapy... but I'm just being honest.) But I finally came to realize that there are some motivaters which make me do things, decide things, feel things, which I don't understand; and more importantly, I don't like.

So, I'm in therapy. My therapist is a very nice man named Doug. I like him well enough, except he has one eye that travels, and I never know which eye to look into when I'm bearing my soul to him. This is rather maddening, but I'm sure I can manage.

The foremost burning question in my mind is, how can a person take a horrific beating from someone, and still love that person?

I don't know what the answer is, but I'm hoping to find out.

In other news, Mr. New is history.

I tried to get along. Tried to ignore the fact that as the days went by, he was consistently irritating me more and more. I tried to keep in my mind that although it wasn't love, it wasn't bad. But, he just isn't the guy for me. No other way to put it. To be honest, I'm not sure there is a "guy for me."

Last night was the frosting on the cake. I won't go into details, but let's just say that something very minor gave me a raging case of Red Ass, and I just let it rip. He called me twice after that, and both times I just tore him apart. This morning, he called again and asked if I was still mad at him. I told him I wasn't, but that nothing's changed. I told him he's just a crotchedy, cantankerous old coot, and I can't be bothered with his pissy attitudes... millions or no millions.

Nah... there isn't enough money in the world to make me put up with his old man shit. Not to mention ... (Jared, close your eyes...) I am not IN.THE.LEAST. attracted to him in a sexual way, and in fact, the mere thought of anything physical with him, repulses me. So there. I said it. Good Bye Mr. Buck and a Quarter.