Smaller

I have dozens of draft emails. Someone was talking about a man who works in my building who is on parental leave. He has grown a somewhat wild beard. People were joking about it and I was thinking of the Russian's winter stache last year. Now I am sitting here and tears keep stinging my eyes, but they won't fall. But I feel miserable. I shouldn't have exchanged emails with him this week. I don't understand why I can't believe that he doesn't love me. It is in part him, what he says and has said, but it also feels like this stone inside of me that won't be eroded. I think of him moving from person to person at the opening last night, and then noticing a pretty girl and talking to her, remembering how much fun he has when he is in that moment, and it is like I am watching myself get smaller and smaller in his heart. I want to feel free when I think of those things, because it doesn't matter to me anymore, it doesn't affect me.

I hate my job. That can't be helping. What am I doing? Christine says it is all fixable. How do I do that?