I was doing okay today. I got through the work day, despite several hiccups from parents. What the hell is wrong with parents today!? I don’t understand why they believe their child over a teacher, especially when it’s obvious that the child is lying to prevent getting in trouble. When I was a kid, my parents always believed the teacher when I was in trouble. Why is it the opposite today? Sure, there are a few (very few) teachers who may just have it out for a kid, but the vast majority put up with all the shit that comes with teaching because they love to do it. They like to make a difference in the lives of others.
I didn’t talk to Carl as much during the day because my schedule was packed today. Because I didn’t have any plans after work today, I ran a bunch of errands. I was really hungry, so I picked up some fast food. As I drove home eating, Diego called asking what I was doing. I explained that I was driving and he asked if he could come over. I told him sure, but that I probably wasn’t going to want sex. My sex drive had really tanked the past week or so. He said that was okay and that he’d bring me dinner. I told him I didn’t need dinner, but that it would be nice to see him.
He showed up with dinner. And then he told me that I should lose some weight, for my health. And then he told me to eat some of the food he brought me. He lectured me about not being polite and respectful. He said he had wanted to do something nice for me by buying me dinner. I told him he should have listened to me when I said I already ate, especially since he told me I needed to lose a few pounds. He told me that I should never reject it, but just put it in my fridge to eat later. I did, but I was annoyed, not only with the weight reference, but the fact that it was almost immediately followed by a plea to eat extra when I wasn’t even hungry.
We watched a partial movie. Diego kept trying to kiss me and I just wanted to watch the movie. His kisses stopped being desirable and were almost loathsome. About halfway through the movie, he asked if I wanted to go to bed. I told him I didn’t want to have sex. He said okay, but said that he would spend the night anyway. I was hopeful that hings were turning around for us. Maybe he was starting to understand my depression and what I needed from him. No. Sadly, that was not the case.
He tried for sex. Then he got annoyed that he was rejected. He said I didn’t care for him anymore because I didn’t want to have sex with him. I told him that it was the depression. He accused me of not caring about his feelings. HIS FEELINGS!? Here I was, so depressed that I don’t even want sex anymore and I had to be mindful of the fact that he was disappointed that I wasn’t in the mood!? I was angry. He then told me that he thought maybe he was better off alone. I started to cry. I started to think that he was right, but I cried because I would still miss him. We broke up several times over the course of that night. We stayed up until at least midnight alternating between my crying, cuddling, and talking. Exhausted, I ended up falling asleep in his arms.