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No artist is pleased. There is no satisfaction at anytime.
There is only a queer, divine dissatisfaction,
a blessed unrest keeps us marching and makes us more alive than others.
-- Martha Graham to Agnes De Mille
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2003-06-30 - 11:36 p.m.

The Upstairs People and the Downstairs People

Sometimes I wonder what goes on inside my heart. Cause whatever it is, my brain sure doesn't have any clue.

In Myers-Briggs terminology, I'm an INFP. The F stands for Feeling, as opposed to Thinking. Which means that my heart rules, and not my head. But I approach so many things from an intellectual standpoint. That's when the Upstairs People are in charge. But the Downstairs People have veto power. Which means that I go one direction for a while, until finally I can't ignore the clamoring of the Downstairs People any more, and then suddenly I reverse direction.

Which has caused much consternation for people who are foolish enough to believe what I tell them about my relationships. I say one thing, and believe it, or at least want to believe it. Then I end up somewhere else. Looking like a liar. Feeling sorry, but unable to feel anything else.

Basically, this means that I'm fucked up.

Big Time.

Which, really, is the only explanation I can give for why it is that I went from pining over ShyGirl, to trying to date her, to having to get the hell away from her, all in such a short period of time. In my defense, there was a dumptruck-load of drama that didn't need to be there. And I guess I tried to be supportive and encouraging at times when I should have been more honest. The Upstairs People where all for supportive. The Downstairs People, who were apparently for honest, hadn't yet made up their minds about what honest is, nor found their voices.

All the Upstairs/Downstairs bullshit is just a way to disassociate myself from the shitty things I've done in the past couple of months. Because I feel bad. And I'd like to blame some part of me that's not me, instead of fessing up to what I did.

All of this is just a way to delay saying that I ran into ShyGirl on Saturday night. I was already in an emotionally fucked up state, because I'd just said goodbye to all the people from the Intensive, who had all come to mean so much to me. (Big entry on that needed, but probably not happening soon.) Plus, I didn't expect to see ShyGirl. Plus I was drunk.

So I was not in a good state of mind to have her tell me that I'm an asshole and I broke her heart.

For forty-five minutes.

While everyone from CowPlace watched, and shuffled their feet uncomfortably, and played pool, and generally tried to ignore this huge emotional meltdown in a public place.

(So, again in my defense, this was not the first emotional meltdown in a public place I'd endured. Actually, there was one for each week we were dating.)

Okay, so there were definitely some valid points about returning phone calls. But I'm generally not good at returning phone calls. And when I was coming home every night bone tired, and emotionally worn out, I didn't particularly want to call someone who was going to tell me that I'm an asshole and that I broke her heart. Call me insensitive. I was selfish. I'll admit it.

Anyway, I was not happy to go through this conversation. And it wasn't just the embarrassment factor. I genuinely feel terrible for ShyGirl. I honestly had no idea she was getting so wrapped up in things. I didn't think that it was possible. For jesusfuckingchrist we only dated for three weeks. But I feel like shit. I really do.

It didn't help that BoBoGirl jokingly called my "Heartbreaker". I actually almost broke down at that. Because I don't want my friends to think I'm a heartbreaker, or that I've been too big a shit to ShyGirl. I know if they hear it from her, I'm the devil incarnate. I also know that my friends will judge me by me, and I don't intend to go out of my way to defend myself. But I just worry about people thinking ill of me.

I dunno. I've gotten to rambling now, and I don't want to do that. What brought on all this talk of it, is I just got an email from ShyGirl. It was incredibly formal and cold in tone. And I just was feeling sad about the huge difference between where we were a month ago and now.

It makes me wonder what the fuck goes on in my heart, and whether or not I'll ever understand it.

That's all.

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