Oh, old habits die hard

I had thought things were getting better. I guess I thought wrong.

She said, "You're just being overly dramatic."

I'm just telling you how I feel. The thing is, I'm not being dramatic at all.

And that was how we said good night.

***

How do we proceed with any kind of relationship? I guard against thinking too much because this is my weakness, my failure, my open wound. I tell myself to stay calm, to not argue, to let things be, to let things fall away.

And she was correct - I was being overly dramatic.

What are my options? To get mad? To huff and puff? To force a conversation?

Oh
Old habits die hard
When you got
When you got
A sentimental heart
Piece of the puzzle
And you're my missing part
Oh, what can you do
With a sentimental heart

"One day, you'll be cool"

A memorable quote from the movie Almost Famous. We could have told her then, "Zooey, one day, you will be hot." Then three years later, she was in the movie Elf.



Then somewhere along the way, it did happen. People suddenly realized she was sooo sexy.



And finally:

Obsessive, intense, bed-ridden bitch

Yes, I do. I really, really do. She's so smart, so pretty, so creative, so adorable, and she has this great unidentifiable accent. And her big sis is Emily.

I wish I were Zooey.

Her, more than myself, especially right now that I'm feeling utterly miserable with this virus that's ravaging my throat and chest. I am bed-ridden and inconsololable, full of self-pity. I call out with loud, dry, hallow coughing. My life looks like a dead end from this view, on a pillow, under a blanket.

I haven't been able to write anything in my other blog, so I'm starting this new one. It seems to easy to obsess over a person, especially a minor celebrity whose life and movements are documented on the Web. What else can a fan ask for?

Do I want to meet Zooey! Of course, but I don't think she would want to meet me - an obsessive, intense, bed-ridden bitch.

With my other blog, I did obsess with someone, an old long-lost (always lost) best friend, for years. Since I've let her go, let the memory and feelings go, the desperation, I have been floating around this past year, in a half-sober daze.

Perhaps this is a way of moving on, moving forward. Or not. Either way, it is a change and another excuse to blog and bare myself.

Be my witness.