I thought I was finished discussing this too.

Roar.

So I've been trying to post forever, but my internet connection has been so spotty in the apartment. Let's see if I can bang out this entry before it fails me again.

First of all, I think I'm going a little insane, and feel a little stunted and very stupid. I don't know, my interactions with certain people in certain environments are just increasingly tense and uncomfortable. And I really feel like I'm doing my best to avoid this. I don't understand! I've been through this shitstorm already. I don't feel uncomfortable, I think I've accomplished closure, but I keep upsetting everyone. I'm trying to be pleasant, but there's apparently this embittered, condemnatory undertone involved. And everyone is so defensive. What the fuck? I don't even know what I'm saying to these people. It doesn't seem all that important to me.

Have I become tactless?

I think I've been really well-behaved. I've let everyone else call the shots, time and time again. I've been hugely manipulated, taken for a complete fool. There was this whole staged, calculated performance, of which I was an oblivious co-star, and I took it for sincerity? I completely fell for it. I acknowledge this, that I'm a bit of a sad little idiot, but why exactly do I have to make penance for having honest feelings, and trying to behave like an adult? I haven't freaked out in any overt, public way. You should be nice to me. I've tried to do everything right by you. You're just so disingenuous.

I think much of it has to do with underlying feelings of guilt, but more prominently and importantly, the anger and resentment of feeling guilty in the first place. Such occurrences are rare.

Well, I'm sorry. I won't liberate you from that guilt, which is entirely unnecessary and a waste of time, by being an asshole. That's not my role.

Sad little idiot.

I'm not all that sad anymore so much as I'm frustrated, but I'm certainly little, hopefully becoming less and less of an idiot as I'm being rudely awakened by the World of Fucked Up Dudes.

W-FUD. Dub Fud. This is code.

You know what helps?

Pretending that such men are Eunuchs. Especially because they like reading literature about the middle ages, have recently been very into growing their facial hair to a really appealing length, hair on head growing longer and longer and usually unkempt, covered by some kind of dark hood, the earth tones, the long coat...the jar of testes kept safe in their cave-like dwellings.
So, in my imagination, he's a monk. Asceticism counteracted by Alcoholism. Generally somber, all-suffering, bearing the weight of the world and his own plethora of knowledge always, committed to his reading and clerical celibacy, disciplined, punitive, dark eyes sad and enormous against pale skin, pupils often dilated and never ending, and most importantly, No Genitalia. And sometimes his voice gets really high for no reason. Especially when he explodes into laughter.
It really works. It's a completely asexual image, he's been a complete douche, and rather than being sort of into said douchey behavior, any sexual AND emotional connections are entirely voided.

He's vilified everything, everything I've ever felt has been completely invalidated. There's nothing to be sad about, it's gone, it's almost as if it never was. I still can't bring myself to hate him. I'm assured more and more every day that he's doing me a huge favor.

"the castrated ones sit on the corner smoking
they want to feel the bulges in their pants start to rise
At the sight of a beautiful woman, they feel nothing
but anger, her skin makes them sick in the night
Nauseous, nauseous, nauseous."

There's a Regina Spektor lyric for everything.

So if Father Matthew goes into monastic solitude, I'll deal.
I don't have a choice.