*

Everything's been a daze this week. I can't even believe I held it together the day everything with Nate happened. Shann came home and I wanted to die or run or collapse dramatically in front of her while a deluge of apologies flooded out of my mouth, but the extra wine helped enough, I guess. She could still tell that something was wrong, but she doesn't like Nate already, so she just guessed it had something to do with him being an asshole. Really, though, he still was, so telling her "yes he was" was honest, and saying we had an argument and a little fight was also true.

Benny's first call after that was more awkward than anything with Shann that day, somehow. It was so stupid that it was, too. I didn't really do anything with Nate. It wasn't like that anyway. And we're both fine sleeping around every so often as long as it stays detached and doesn't get in the way of anything. I thought it was nice that we trust each other enough for that. Plenty of couples don't. Three more months 'til September and they're dragging as slow as the ones before it. --But anyway, it still felt strange. I still didn't want to talk about it with him, didn't want to worry him in any way. We have enough on our plate as it is and I don't want to add anything unnecessary. --Well, I say that, but I know I already have. UGH. It was lovely to hear him as always, even if I was nervous talking with him at first. He didn't seem surprised by it, though, didn't ask me about it; he must've figured I've got enough stress to deal with that sounding anxious was par for the course. "I wish I could hold you, baby. I'd be holdin' you right now. You know it. 'N I'd smell like sweat n' that cologne you like n' my cigs..." In that order! Ha. He's such a sweetheart... I know I've resented him being away more and more. It's so hard. It's not his fault. It's his job. And that's why we have to win, so he doesn't have to do all that anymore to make the money he needs.

Anyway. Nate was only swinging by once or twice a week, so him not coming back or even calling yet isn't too odd. It feels bad this time, though. There's a dread to it, for obvious reasons. We reassured one another that everything was good, we could put it behind us, it didn't mean anything, but it's probably not that simple. I mean, I thought it could be that simple with Greg, and look how that ended up. It should feel GOOD to have this kind of break from Nathan. I need it. He needs it. I just wish I knew what he was thinking. About me, about all this. That's all. I don't want him telling Walter anything (or Walt filling his head with G-d knows what), or opening his big oblivious mouth around anyone else. I want to know I didn't ruin it all. Is that so much to ask?

PS: The more I think about Walt getting involved in any way with this-- knowing anything about it, that is-- the more nauseous I feel. This would be the most stupid thing to get into I can think of. I mean, it really would fuck literally everything up. It really can't be anything. --But I still hope he isn't disgusted by me. Or that he doesn't think anything too stupid about me.

*

I hear the riff of Nate's damn song every morning when I run, now. I mean, it's gonna be at a perfect running tempo once drums and all that are added to it. It makes sense. But I hate it. I hear it and run to it and feel myself start to get sweaty, feel the adrenaline of exertion, and I imagine him next to me, keeping pace with me, and I run faster, imagine racing him. I wouldn't let him beat me the way I let Joshua beat me all those years ago. He'd have to catch me himself. And he'd whine about it, be annoyed about it, get winded trying to catch up to me. But he'd get there, eventually, and catching me would be worth all his while. (stupid, stupid, stupid...)

I've been running until my brain shuts up about him, which usually means I run until I'm too tired to think about much else besides where I need to go and what I need to do to get there. That means my usual 5 miles has become more like 7 or 8. And what the hell has he been doing, this whole time? Am I stuck in his head? Or is it really like what I'm afraid of... I mean, I should be afraid of either of those answers. They lead to far too similar a place, one's just a direct path there and the other's the scenic route.

I'm still in such a daze that Shann's noticed even with sex, and that's something I'd been able to do for her very well up until now [39]. And then, this morning, over breakfast (only coffee for her, of course), she told me "There's something... weird, about you. Not bad. I don't think. Just... weird." and my heart did panicked backflips, but I'm used to dealing with people thinking I'm weird or suspecting various other things about me whether they're true or not. I didn't ask her what she meant. Just shrugged, told her that as long as the weird was alright with her, then I didn't mind her thinking so. She smiled a little at that, so I think it's alright. At least, for now.

Interesting she's starting to poke at this now, though. Before, everything about her was enough to keep her from poking at me. Now that might not be true. Hmm... I'd really rather not poke at her back if I don't have to. I truly hate the irony that this would all be easier if I was working. I wonder how much Walter knew that when he sprung all this. If he thinks I'm going to run to his boat and cry at his feet about how right he was and how sorry I am (and for WHAT?) he has another thing coming, but I do still wonder.

*

I should feel relieved but I don't. I should be praising G-d for lifting this burden from me, making things less complicated again, balancing things to a degree that I can probably actually deal with them. But I'm so angry I can feel my hand shaking as I write this. I feel so stupid and used and dirty and disgusting and I hate Nathan so fucking much of course this was all nothing to him, of course he just threw my head into disarray without thinking or caring, of course he was just bored and using me for what he wanted and maybe even just fucking seeing if Jeff was right about me, if Walt was right about me, playing with me 'til I finally took the fucking bait and now he can run back to Jeff and they can crow about what a freakish perverted little loser I am, and Jeff can write so damn well, Nate can do his thing, and what the fuck do I have to keep me from getting thrown out on my ass? I would've said my voice before, and I would hope that's still true, but would it still be true in the face of everything else? Walt could probably find someone half as good, another poor desperate sap scrounging to make ends meet that'll kiss Walt's ass and be everything everyone else wants without having to deal with all my baggage and damaged goods.

G-d OF COURSE he doesn't actually care about me, or want to get to know me on a friendly level, or anything like that. Just run off and take our song to whoever'll have you, it was just sketches anyway, right, it didn't mean anything, it was just helping you grow more confident in your voice, it didn't mean anything, you were just bored, and that didn't mean anything either, that was just me "taking things the worst possible way every single time". Right. You FUCKER. G-D I wanted to scream when I first found out and I still want to scream now (He knows how it looks too, 'cause he didn't tell me himself what he was doing, nope, he told Sam and thought Sam wouldn't tell me, I guess. Of course, poor Sam doesn't know what reason I'd have to not be happy about Nate's new solo project, he was just happy to be drumming some for it. I said I apparently already made my contributions).

And this whole damn time Walt's gone on and on about how "toxic" solo projects are, that solo projects are only good for jacking artists' egos off, and I don't need to do THAT, do I, of course not, I know how good I am already don't I, of course I do, I don't need anything else, I got my "family" with me, right? And I wouldn't want to do anything to break up that family would I, especially with how much ~baggage~ I already have that Walt has to manage, oh of ~COURSE~ not. (But Nathan's ego can get as big as it wants, of course, that's just fine, no problems there, nosirree)

Anyway, I told Shann she was dead right about Nathan and she said she told me so.

*

[39]There's a strange kind of luck in the fact that straight men are far less good at sex than they'd like to think. Like, I'm checked out for it and I apparently still pay better attention to what makes her feel good than guys that're as turned on by women's breasts as she assumes I am. I guess the tube-top was to try and look sexy for me? I was just happy for her sake that she looked comfortable!