Chapter 31: Journal Entry 6

Journal Entry 6


Hey Journal –

Today was our last full day together, Tom and I. We spent it the same as we did “Day 12” – watching TV, singing, and messing around with my guitar. It was raining today, so we couldn’t really go outside. I offered to go to the mall, but in the end we had fun. We ordered a pizza and basically just hung out. We had a Buffy – Season Two! Marathon.

If anything, I’m glad he’s leaving tomorrow. I really enjoy his presence, but at the same time, it means that Roger won’t talk to me. I’d rather never have had any of this happen than Roger never speak to me again.

I’m really angry with him though. I mean, what kind of person does he think that I am? Does he really think that I would cheat on him the first chance I got? If I wanted to cheat on him, I would. But other guys aren’t even attractive to me. I find more redeeming qualities in girls than I do in guys, with the exception of Roger. Sometimes, I swear, he makes me want to kill him.

I don’t deserve to be ignored for this long. Four or five days? Sure. But he did the stupid thing. He’s pushing me away. If I wanted anyone else, then he probably should have constantly been checking in with me, you know? To make sure I wasn’t fucking around. But no, he does this, which leaves me lonely and pissed off. He’s probably lonely, too.

I’m fucking pathetic, by the way. It doesn’t hurt enough anymore to make me cry, but I’m still calling his cell phone every few minutes to see if he picks up. I can’t believe that he actually has not answered my calls for thirteen days. I’ll be really pissed if he ever actually watched the phone ring and then just left it there.

So after I bitch him out, I’m not really sure what I want to do. Right now, I’m mostly focused on the bitching-at-him part. It will feel so good to yell at him. I’ve been very nice and polite with Tom for two weeks. But I’m sexually frustrated, mentally frustrated, and my heart is alternating between telling me that its broken in two, and telling me that he’s always with me anyhow. My head is coming up with cruel and unusual punishments…enforced chastity, self-flagellation with a hairbrush along his inner thighs…all of these things make me happy.

Well, I take that back. They don’t make me happy. Instead, they provide me with that giddy feeling you have after you see something positively hilarious. The image of a large man beating himself with a hairbrush is one I find exceptionally amusing. I wonder how he’d take it if I mentioned it to him.

I guess I’ll try again right now. Hang on, Journal.

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I set the pen down and hit redial. It rang once, then again. And then I heard a click.

“Hello?” Roger’s deep voice came from the other end of the line.

“You!” I growled into the phone, my blood temperature rising. “Are you hurt?”

“…No…” He said, confused.

“Were you in jail?” I asked him, my voice quieter.

“No.” He sounded confused still.

“And do you know who I am?” I asked. My voice wasn’t in its normal range, so I wasn’t sure.

“Storm?”

“Yes. Hang on a second.”

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Okay Journal, he picked up the phone, Yay! But now I’m going to bitch at him, so that’s all for now.

-Storm