Dear Diary,

Life has been ever so hectic. I've been working a whole bunch, and that's good.

And, without needing to go into all the details of everything, because I am so over it, Alphie and I had a phone confrontation today. It was useless, as I knew it would be. He talks about communication and how he paints himself as a great communicator, but the fact is, he can't own anything about his own behavior. If it appears to him that something is his "fault" he will twist the story around so it suits him and his image of himself. He even said several times, "Well, I remember it differently," interesting, since I tend to remember things that cut deep and hurt me badly. But his version was always much nicer. And he has a way of dredging up old issues that I am so over, yet he claims I'm the one that doesn't let go. It's interesting, and almost like talking to somebody who's on drugs.

Anyhow, I knew the conversation was going to go like this, so I was somewhat prepared. I was clear in my intention, which I made several days ago: I just want to be like my other friends, and be amused by Alphie, but not have any expectations of him. So, I feel like I no longer need anything from him.

I know I am really unattached because I don't even feel like writing all the details of the story, all the ways he contradicts himself, all the things he has twisted around to make himself in a better light and like it's me with the problem. I am just over him, and truthfully, I could take a nice little vacation from the both of them, both he and Grace, and I would be happy.

In the end I asked him if he felt complete and he said he didn't really, because I wouldn't admit to saying things I know I didn't say. It seems his idea of being on the same page is everyone needs to agree with his story. But I know what I said and I know what I mean when I say something.

I felt really clear, and like I told the truth, but then when I got home I cried. I think I felt like any unconscious parts of me that were hoping that things could be different, or that I could be heard and seen for who I am, were grieving. But when someone is so wrapped up in being perfect, they will not see you for who you really are.

While in the shower I imagined I was just washing Alphie off of me and out of me. Not only all the times he touched me, but also all the times I took on his stupid view of things. All the times I absorbed any of the energy of trying to make him feel safe by not challenging his view of himself. All the times I swallowed my feelings because I knew I couldn't talk to him. All the stuff he tried to project onto me as my fault and not his. Fuck that. I sent it back to him. He can take care of it now.

I'm not playing anymore.

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