Crying Jag

Had an unpredictable night. Cried non-stop for three hours tonight upon discovering that half the stuffing I had made for the perogies last night went off sometime today. Around 1kg of stuffing went down the chute. But cried even more when he said that we have too much food. Then cried even more when I tried to reproach him over not taking care of the kitchen and he said he was preparing his film and I should be more supportive. Then cried even more because of perceived lifetime failure to do proper housekeeping. Boiling over with tears and rage when he said he lived to make his films, and nothing, not even love and dirty dishes, would stand in his way.

Stormed to Room 2 in our cookie-box apartment. Cried and cried unconsolably because he wouldn't come over to apologize. Then cried even more when he came over to apologize and I told him I was a loser. Continued vague weeping motions and threw myself face down in the bed. He came over to comfort me. I told him why I was really crying.

I'm leaving in 3 weeks to go back to Canada for 3 months, and he is filming all through the second last week I'm here. Of course I've known this for ages, and of course it didn't mean anything for ages, but now, so close, it means a lot. I'm gonna miss him so much and I don't know how I'll get on without him. I want him to spend more time with me.

Then cried even more, through hiccups and laughs, when I asked him if he thought I was the Dora to his Copperfield. But he didn't know the story and he asked me if she was a supermodel.

Made one last dashed attempt at weeps when I asked him if he loved me and he said it was ok, that one day we will have children and animals, I will have a dog and he will have a monkey.

Then I hiccuped and laughed and laughed.