Trying to organize the thoughts in my head.

Things with Beverly were fun... we had a great time. I took her to all the places I knew she would like. She said it was like a dream vacation.

I also saw my own control issues. Within two minutes of coming into my apartment, Beverly messed the place up completely- soap and toothpaste dripped all over the sink, things spread all around, wearing her shoes inside. It irked me tremedously in the beginning, until I told myself to relax, it was only temorary.

Beverly asked me about Frank, and if there were plans to move into a "more permanent" relationship. I think she just wanted to know what kind of plans we have for the future. I immediately got sad, and felt a lot of shame... because our relationship is like "Fight Club"-- the first rule is, we're not allowed to talk about the future... the second rule is... we don't talk about the future. Seriously. Frank is so ambivalent about me, and so afraid of intimacy, that we really don't talk about being together. Sometimes he will say stuff like, "Next year we should..." or "Let's take our next vacation in..." so it's like he's THINKING or INTIMATING that we will be together, but we don't have any solid plans, like, "we'll move in together by next fall," or anything like that. It's only when someone else asks me about it that I realize how unsettling it is.

The shame and embarrassment comes from thinking that I SHOULD have some kind of idea about that sort of thing. And it seems other couples do... Anna met Steve a short time after I met Frank. They just moved in together. I wasn't really sure how I felt... actually I felt maybe they were going fast, but still it made me question what was going on in my own relationship. Anna and Steve seem to have some clear ideas about what they want to do as a couple.

At this point, Frank has let it be known that he likes living alone. That's okay... I kind of like living by myself too. Although I think in the future that I would like to share a space. But Frank wonders if he can live with anyone at all. He tells this story about himself that he is the most difficult person to live with. I think he got this message from living with a couple of other women.

My theory is, if you're going to live with someone, you can't try to change them. Forget it. My brother Kevin moved in with a woman named Astor. I remember going over and Astor was making a point to attempt to humiliate Kevin in front of me. Why? Because Kevin had let her down-- he hadn't written his Christmas cards out in time. I was intensely amused. In the whole LIFETIME I knew my brother, I had never seen him ONCE write any kind of correspondence to anyone. No letters, cards or even postcards. The boy never licked a stamp in his life. She waited for me to join in and tell Kevin how irresponsible he was, but instead I just looked at her and said, "He doesn't do those kinds of things. Never has."

And I think that's what happened in Frank's last relationships. Granted, there are ways you become responsible for certain things in relationships-- taking care of yourself, sharing certain information, and pitching in definitely if you share a space- washing dishes, taking out the garbage, etc. But there are certain little things about a person you just cannot change. You can't expect them to do a 180-degree turn and be someone else. Maybe this happened with Frank. However now I think he thinks it will ruin everything if he tries again.

I glanced at this book called, "If the Buddha Married," what I took from it was about seeing your partner as he/she really is, not trying to change them, and also understanding that they will initiate their own changes, so you constantly have to look and ask, "Who are you now?"

I guess our relationship is pretty much in the moment, seeing as how there's not much emphasis on the future. My unhappiness comes when I just wish Frank would be somebody different, say different things or express himself differently. There was the frustration which came from him evolving from this poetic, attentive lover to someone who felt "flat". But when I pointed out this change to him, he seemed disappointed in it too. And he has initiated some changes on his own since then; i.e., being more affectionate, so that does show that he cares about the relationship.

As for emphasis on the future, I guess I have to be pretty realistic. Here is a man that, in this moment, is just interested in the relationship the way it is. He does not want to change. He likes us living separately. I have to examine what I need. If I need to be with someone that will set up definite, future plans with me, then I guess I will have to find someone else. Because I can't make Frank be that person. I will either a) have to live with the fact that we may never live together, or b) hang out until I'm really tired of it, and then go elsewhere. Of course there is always the chance that he will change his mind, but I can't try to do that or live my life hoping that will happen.

A friend asked me, "Have you got anything better to do?" That was her way of being funny. He's nice enough. He's extremely generous. He is a conscious and attentive lover. He cares about me. He once drove 45 minutes each way to bring me the lipstick I left at his house, because he knew I had a job interview the next morning and it was the only lipstick I wear and he wanted me to feel confident.

So in some ways it feels as though my needs are endless. There is something else about me, an emptiness that I think Frank should fill because it would be impossible. Is any love enough for it? Maybe not.

This diary is not really about Frank and I at all, even though I constantly write about our relationship. It's really about the relationship I have with myself. That deep, dark, abandonment-fearing part of myself.

Even though I live alone and go through my days alone, it is a fear of a new kind of alone-ness: loneliness.

Whaddya say about that, Buddha? Sit in the loneliness. Be one with the loneliness. Be the loneliness.

Only this kind of loneliness feels like death.

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