Spring Break

I am currently writing to Don't You (Forget About Me) by Billy Idol, so if I start sounding like Allison from the Breakfast Club, don't mind it.

So, my Spring Break sucked, on so many different levels. Friday through Tuesday, I was healthy, and still managed to not have sex. The dynamic between me and W had become non-existent. There was no affection, no sex drive. Any time I got to hold his hand, I just wanted so badly for there to be more and more, but there never was. I wanted the affection so badly, but the more I reached for it, the father away it got. On top of that, we were snappy and bitchy at each other. It was just such a negative atmosphere, it made me feel worse, making the atmosphere more negative.

Tuesday night, I could feel a fever coming on. Me and W went to Trivia at the local club, and I was just miserable. That might, in a desperate act, I had sex with him, knowing that I was getting sick, and it was my last chance. If we didn't have sex that night, we wouldn't have done it at all over spring break, and I was afraid of what that would mean. The sex was listless and quick, hardly even worth mentioning. It was just a placeholder.

The rest of the week only went downhill. I was sick, and not sleeping well. Affection became even less present. By the time Saturday rolled around, I was dragging along the ground, extremely low.

Saturday night, I cried in bed while W slept, his whole body turned away from em, on the complete opposite side of the bed. At one point in the night, when I thought I had worked out enough of my angst, I turned back to him, placed my hand on his waist, and kissed his shoulder, getting ready to settle down and snuggle my boyfriend.

In his sleep, he pulled away from me. Violently.

I rolled back over, and the silly crying started up again. Even though I was feeling better physically, I did not sleep well that night.

Sunday morning, I woke up at two, lethargic and depressed. When he asked about it, I let W believe that I was just tired from being sick. At three, we went up to Denver, so that W could see his friend, and look at a car he was thinking about buying. While we were standing in the cold, looking at that stupid little car, I received a text from my friend, telling me that, instead of nine at night, ne needed me at seven for a babysitting gig. It was 5:30 at the time, which created some problems, as I'm sure you can imagine. I had to tell W that we had to leave early.

The news did nothing more than put him in a worse mood. However, being the wonderful boyfriend that he is, he got me down to the Springs perfectly on time. We parted with little more than a "see ya."

What followed was the babysitting job that pulled me out of my depression in a way that I will never forget...