Toastie ‘97

12:30AM

I’ve been going through withdrawal, from Susan, and from Trent 2, and it was going along pretty fragily, but successfully, I think. But then, just before, I peered my head into the Trent 2 commons room to ask someone a question, and I peered a few seconds too long. I saw Susan, and she saw me, and I instantly turned around and went downstairs. Pain ripped through me as I was reminded that Susan obviously has absolutely nothing to say to me. And that hurts like hell.

Too much has happened to explain anything else for now. Perhaps I’ll get a chance to summarize before fall break. I’ve got to do some work now…

1:00AM

Eye contact with Susan that lasted for less than a second tonight has caused me to slip back down deep into my pit of despair. A couple of other factors haven’t helped, such talking to Larry and hearing him tell me how absolutely great it was to be home for the weekend with “everyone,” an everyone I think I now know I’ll never be comfortable with. It made me think that I may have very little reason to re-visit North Brunswick. The names and places that Larry mentioned to me sickened me to the core. And yet, I’ve got no names and places here to make me feel secure. And so what I’m basically saying is that I feel completely empty, completely alone. During certain times since I’ve been here, I am genuinely felt okay thinking that at least Susan cared. No matter how much I may have doubted her, she was there for me, and it meant the world to me. But now she ignores me. Now I feel as if she doesn’t give a damn at all. And so I naturally doubt that she ever cared. So I feel like even my secure moments were completely empty, because Susan was nice simply out of pity, simply out of her conscience that wouldn’t allow her to abandon me because I had done so many nice things to her.

For the moment, I’ve changed to a font that prints out a strange language of characters. It’s like some sort of code, and I don’t know what the point of it is, except that I can currently write without being afraid that my roommate Daniel can read what I’m typing. One thing that has made the last hour or so difficult has been Daniel talking to his mom on the phone. He walks around with my cordless like he owns the room. He sits on my bed. He talked so damn loud. Go outside, you bastard. I might as well let my anger out now in here. I’m so sick of Daniel always being so damned inconsiderate. He plays his damn music when he goes to sleep, and it might as well be an alarm when he wakes up but I still have some time to sleep. Had he not been on the phone, I would have stayed in this room and done my philosophy write-up instead of venturing up to Trent 2 and having my brief, but incredibly painful, encounter with Susan. I wish he’d just the hell up already. Worse than Michael? I suppose not. This room is still a safe haven for me most of the time, but not a lot of times that really matter, like now. I could find no other place to just relax though. It’s 1:20, and I’ve I wanted to go to sleep right now, I could not, because Daniel would not go outside. Damn, even Michael would do that.

I got extensions for UWC and French tonight, and so I thought I’d get some work done and be able to relax about things. But my night went to hell, because of Susan, Larry, and my roommate.

For the past four ngiths, I have turned around every time I’ve heard the staircase door open, hoping that it would be Susan. That must have happened about five dozen times, and each time, I’ve been disappointed. Get off the damn phone, Daniel. You’re really pissing me off. Can’t you go outside, please?

My current nightmarish predicament will be over in just two and a half days. Time will take its course and expire, and I assume I will somehow manage to pull myself through this time.