A Backslide of Frustration

Weeks seem to be passing now and there is very little to no contact with Mr.Aloof. Unfortunately, during hormone hell week, there was a bit of contact going on, which was a large part of the reason for the crying at work thing. I bring this up because there was a reason for the contact and it had to do with some photos.

Without getting into the whole story, there were, over a few separate occasions, some photographs taken, not entirely with my consent, that I have never seen. Of course I have asked for the photographs on numerous occasions. This was frequently met with an offer to come up to my place with a computer or hard drive and do some general file swapping. Which I was always in support of, but of course, which never happened.

But this meant that these particular photographs remained a mystery to me, but I was aware enough at the time to know what they were of, and how much I would never want them shown around.

I feel it's a three way blame game really, where everyone has some degree of accountability. And I think had it been handled differently- had the photos been shared readily and right away, it wouldn't have become the horrible thing that it did. But again, this is history. What's done is done.

And in my hormone fueled melancholy I brought up the photos again as sort of a 'last vestige of unfinished business' that I expected to be taken care of. And on top of that I emailed her as well because I didn't think I could count on him to follow through.

So now, a couple of weeks later, it turns out it is she who is being responsible and understanding and taking the time to give me back what is rightfully mine. And our email conversation has been pleasant and considerate and she has no fucking idea what is going on and I haven't told her. And the photos have started arriving in my mailbox. It turns out there are more than I thought, and also they aren't the smallest so only a few per email. Probably another day left of sending before it's finished.

And for the most part I have shoved all the emails into a folder and haven't really looked at the images. But I did glance at them and was struck by the most hideous of sadness. Why the fuck did that all go to waste? And how brilliant it was! How could anyone squander such a thing? And I'm right back to being angry and hurt and upset and thinking 'Why? Why? Why? Why?' in my head. Which will pass of course. But it's annoying. Because I've been good really, and I've been feeling better. Sad still, but better.

The thing is, these photos were a last tie and connection point. And now that I have them (almost). There will be truly nothing left as a hold or a connection. Which is also maybe I was holding onto it as well. At any rate, it's in process and it will be finished. And I think about it and I am just incredibly sad. Not unwavering- just sad. And probably angry. I can tell I'm getting angry. At the lies. At the deception. At the waste. It's the waste that kills me. It'll pass.