damik's Diaryland Diary

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High Maintenance

I've come to the conclusion that I'm more high maintenance then I've previously allowed myself to admit. Poor Will, think of all he's had to go through being with me. Start off with the soup. Less then a week after our first date I call him on the phone when he was fresh off a weekender, or what ever you'd call the lady flying in to see him, and tell him that I'm sick, could he please bring me some soup. Spend the next two weeks being a freakish downer. Waking him up in the middle of the night because I'm scared of the ultra sound, and I don't want to go. He's contended with the ghosts of boyfriends past and every man who's ever hurt me. He got to put up with distract me self injury calls, depressions, and other discomforts in which I've sought to escape but he's encouraged me to face. Now this, yet another ultrasound I'm scared to go to, and yet another thing I want to escape. I wonder when my neediness will become too much for him. When I'm just going to drive him nuts.
He's not my white knight, he's not my hero, but I know, I've never had a friend better then him, I've never had a man care so much about me, I've never felt so close to another person, and I'm grateful for everything he's been for me.

1:11 p.m. - 07-16-03
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