January 29, 2004 - 7:07 p.m.
miserable all day long
except for the moments when i was exceedingly happy.
i don't remember what moments those were... sorta like when you've been fighting and you don't know what you were fighting about. it's like that.
but the opposite.
You shouldn't have to remember why you were happy, or question the probability of having been. I think the most sublime moment was watching the BBC... i want love like that. If i lived in the 18th century i'd have the nerve to get all flustered and whimsical over someone paying me a visit or a compliment...
now it's like... we slept together, or haven't, or live together, or dont, or are married or not... and you still aren't sure sometimes if they really love you.
i hate habits, all of mine are bad.
do you notice good habits? have you ever said, "my, she has a habit of being so damn happy all the time", or "mark my words, that girl is always doing things for others, what a habit she has!" of course, you'd never say it like that... i've just been affected with brit austen sensibility.
I'd have done well back then, at least i wouldn't have expected to be incredibly happy in marriage and then it would just have been a nice surprise if it happened.
Then I wouldn't have to listen to the gross, stomach turning invitations in the other room... 'it's only two and a half hours away' or overhear a life's history as if i was watching it be set out exactly as i heard it... like some repeat courtship, or feel like this was happening under my own nose, like i'm the last person in the world to intrude upon those words. Never mind... i have to go and dance.
At least THAT is better in this century.
