I love the roses. I love them. LOVE THEM.
@ 4:16 p.m.
I think I must be a bad person. Whenever C and I used to argue before about the whole helping each other thing, I tended to bring up things he wouldn't do/didn't do for me. For example, he said he would bake me a cake for my birthday (my birthday is in February by the way) after the fact since I asked for one after the fact. This was about in March or maybe April. But C was kind of busy then. Every once in awhile I would just ask him when he was planning on making me that cake. And then when we fought, I would bring up the fact that I ask him to do certain things and he never does it. I think I brought this up a lot during the summer because he had so much free time yet he wasn't making me my cake still. (By the way, he finally made it sometime last month and it was quite delicious) Another thing I sometimes argue that he doesn't do is he doesn't buy me flowers. I guess it's not like buying flowers is a must or anything, but for awhile I was saying he hadn't bought me flowers because he said he would. I think I must hold onto his every word whenever he says he's going to do anything that I remotely care about.
Well, yesterday when I came home, there they were. A dozen red roses in a vase on my desk. They were beautiful, yet I don't think I really felt anything. I think the most that I could say I felt was that I was pleased. Not in so much of a calculated kind of feeling pleased, I just mean that it was almost as if someone said I bought you some of those cookies you like and I say, "that's nice." That's nice is the equivalent of what I felt about the flowers he bought me that I had bitched and argued about him not getting me all those months.
It's not that I'm not grateful because I am, but it's like I lack emotions. I just don't feel it. I almost have to keep reminding myself how great this is. How he's being a great boyfriend and I need to be grateful he's doing something right, but I just don't FEEL it. Am I emotionally dead inside? I feel like a terrible person. All that time I had bickered at him about it and I felt miserable about it when I was arguing with him about it. All that time I was thinking, "Am I so awful as to expect flowers from my boyfriend when he says he would get them from me?" And yet he completely surprised me yesterday with those roses, and I couldn't truly feel one ounce of the appreciate any normal person would feel.
I wonder if he noticed that too?
It's making me so depressed. It's like nothing really makes me happy anymore. How do you solve a problem like that? I can't force myself to FEEL things that just aren't there. Still, I feel tons of other lame shit. Why can't I seem to feel pure, simple, true happiness anymore? I can't remember the last time I was really happy. Nothing is a surprise. Nothing is shocking. Nothing is spontaneous. Nothing I see or hear or do or anything moves me to any means of happiness and I can't imagine what will. Even when I was in New York last year I didn't feel it. Traveling was about the only thing left I had faith in. But this leads me to believe it's hopeless now.
Those roses reminded me of just how dead I am inside. I want to tell him how I feel, but it'd probably hurt his feelings. Besides, he knows this is how I am. He can see it sometimes that I'm never really happy. It must be like those breakdowns that he has. I can't understand it, how he can think like that. I must be thinking something wrong, that's why I can't feel happiness. He can't understand why I can't find happiness. I can't understand why he thinks he's the problem of everything. He can't understand why I never seem to be feeling anything. I can't understand how he feel so much.