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All Or Nothing

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[01.12.03]-[11:49 p.m.]

fuck fuck fuck. i was happy. i swear i was. dexter was here, and i was happy. then shit got all fucked with my folks. i guess it's been fucked for a long time with them, but i never noticed. maybe i didn't care. i don't care. i do care. they don't understand me. that's cliche, but i didn't say it, P did. he said he doesn't understand me, or the choices i make (referring not to any actual choice, but instead to my sexual orientation). he doesn't understand how dexter and i could possibly relate, besides sexually. i told him that d isn't some boy i brought home to fuck. we're in a relationship. not some bullshit fuck. and i told him we relate as adults. no one is using anyone. father thinks that. that's not what we talked about, really. P thinks our relationship has been null and void for a long time. he's only part right. well, mostly right. he doesn't understand that his uncomfortableness with my homosexuality is a problem for me. he thinks (i believe, and he said it, mostly) that if he doesn't say anything, if he acts like it's fine with him, that everything's gravy. i didn't even realize that he was uncomfortable with it until tonight. but he basically said it. or at least, i told him that he was, and he mostly just confirmed that. he used the word 'prejudices', his prejudices, and how he can't really help them. he also repeatedly used the word 'choices'. i really hate that. he wants us to be close. maybe. i have no fucking clue what he wants. he wants me to spend more time at the house alone with them. without dexter. i hate that. dexter is one of the only thing that brings me happiness, pleasure, contentment, joy right now. cliche, again, but true.

i promised d i wouldn't kill myself. no that's not true. i promised him that i would survive. i will. survive. for him. for me, maybe. i don't have the guts to do myself in. i don't even think i want to. i'm just not very happy with anything but him right now.

i talked to the folks tonight about switching schools. in a year. i'm going to. go somewhere cheaper. go somewhere that's not NYC. come home. not live here, with my folks, but home, berkeley home. i'll hate it, but i'll know it. i'll know my way around. i'll be comfortable. (that's a dream that will never be realized.)

i want to not feel. i want to be numb. i want pills, alcohol, heroin.

i haven't done dope. or anything for that matter, besides alcohol. i'm sort of surprised i didn't get strung out back home. but i've honestly been reasonably happy with things. well, not happy, except when i'm with d. but not depressed. i feel depressed tonight. i took d home, and i didn't want to. my folks basically told me they weren't ok with him staying here the whole time while i'm in town. i understand that, but i don't too. i want to come home and be comfortable. and i'm uncomfortable here. d is uncomfortable too, he says. i understand that completely. but i wish it wasn't so. i want them (my folks) to see that this is making me happy. that's he's NOT JUST SOME KID, HE'S MY FUCKING BOYFRIEND THAT I FELL IN LOVE WIHT, THAT MAKES ME WARM AND FUZZY AROUND!

THAT IS WONDERFUL.

I feel like death.

flames.

fucking flames.

passion.

overtakes.

me.

it fucking does.

sometimes.

'I've been accused but I've only begun. Take me home.' ----'Awake' by B.R.M.C.

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