Sleepless Solitude: The True-Life Journals of a Xanax'd Millennial (Part 1 of 2)

March 20

March 20

Another busy day.

Organized my apartment this morning as best I could. My OCD requires a certain level of tidiness in order for me to function. Dad picked me up from the Witch Cave around 10 a.m., and took me to Casa Z with him. I did my laundry, had some lunch, and then headed over to The Store to work a shift from 2 p.m. to 7 p.m. I was in a pretty good mood all day, actually. I'm also enjoying the MOMENTS playlist Phillip and I have created so far. I really love the music.

After work, I raced back to Casa Z. Thank God for Mom. Much to my surprise, she had finished the laundry I left behind. Bless her. I packed up my things, jumped in the car, and returned to the Witch Cave to freshen up. Why the mad dash back downtown? I had a dinner date with Bryan tonight.

Since I still had the car, I decided to just drive Bryan and I to the restaurant instead of dealing with transit. I picked Bryan up at his place and we went to The Federal, which was a really cute spot on Dundas Street near Gladstone Avenue that he had suggested.

I really like that I'm experiencing the city in a different way with Bryan. I grew up here. As such, Toronto kind of bores me. The last time I was really excited about being in the city was probably when I was 14-years-old and my parents would drop me off at the Eaton Centre while they went to a Toronto Raptors basketball game. That was fun. That was my independence as a young teenager. It was also something people in my small town couldn't believe – as if "The City" was so far. It was a 30-minute drive. For those hicks, Toronto might as well have been in another country.

However, Bryan isn't from here. He's from a small town in Saskatchewan, and moved to Toronto ten years ago to pursue a career in acting. I feel like when people make a big transition like that, they don't take the city for granted as much as I do. Bryan sees Toronto through a different lens. I like that.

Another thing I like about Bryan is that he's really down to earth. To be honest, normally the actor thing would bother me. I sort of have a rule against dating actors. Dancers, too. I guess I just don't see it as a long-term vocation, especially after having spent five years around performers while doing my undergrad. Where do you go with your career once you finally tire of unsuccessful casting calls in such a brutal industry? Do you make a full-time career of serving? What's your Plan B?

It's different with Bryan, though. As early as our first date, I could tell that he had a better sense of himself and his work than other actors I've met and/or dated. Bryan has got a good head on his shoulders. He's confident. We always have great conversations, too. I enjoy all of that. But, it's all still quite fresh. Bryan and I are still getting to know one another. It's fun. I'll continue seeing him.

I suppose a part of me is still trying to fill the void, though. The longer I go without talking to Logan, the more I feel like I'm forgetting that moment of my life. It's incredibly sad to think about, but perhaps it's for the best? I don't want to forget, though. I like the way Logan made me feel. But, now he makes me feel like I'm worth less than dirt. What good is that?

Right before I left the Witch Cave to pick up Bryan, I noticed that Logan had unfollowed me on Instagram. I can't believe I just wrote a sentence like that. Having someone unfollow you on Instagram is such a First World problem. But, it hurt. It still fucking hurts. It feels like a complete dismissal. Mind you, I had never followed Logan back in the first place, so maybe I had it coming.

I think what bothers me most about this whole unfollowing thing is that Instagram was my one way of reaching Logan. The surefire way I could get a message to him, even if it was indirect and hidden within a video. I tried to do that yesterday with the Valerie Cherish post. Maybe he saw it. I hope he did. It was meant for him. Perhaps that's why he unfollowed me. Anyway, it doesn't matter. I don't have that outlet for communication anymore.

I drove Bryan back to his place after dinner. I parked outside on the street and we talked in the car for a bit. We also made out a lot before finally saying goodnight. I'm going to see Bryan again tomorrow evening at the Gladstone Hotel for a RuPaul's Drag Race viewing party.

Once back at the Witch Cave, I lay on the couch for a bit, really depressed. Really fucking depressed. It's Logan. That's the source of my unhappiness, and I don't know what to do about it. I want closure. I want to know why Logan is fucking around with me. I want to know what I did to deserve this treatment and his cold shoulder. I want to know why Logan said all of those incredible things to me from December to February, but now won't talk to me.

I sent Logan a message. I did. I caved. At 11:30 p.m., I asked him how his weekend was. No response. Maybe he's sleeping. Probably not. Either way, I feel such an overwhelming sense of insecurity and worthlessness right now. Why am I basing my self-worth on some guy who everyone says is an asshole? Natasha, Evan, Connor, Lauryn – they're all telling me the same thing. And I know it, too. But, I just can't let go. If a friend told me about a guy who was doing this to them, I would give the same advice. It's disgusting behavior to play with someone's emotions like this.

All of this fuckery causes me to worry that I've done the same thing to someone else. Maybe this Logan situation is karma for something I once did to another guy? I hope not. Not so much because of the karma, but because I would never want to be the one responsible for making someone feel like this. It's horrible.

If I don't hear back from Logan, I'm going to send him a message about how I feel. I don't want to keep it inside anymore. I don't want to get cancer. Even if Logan doesn't respond to that potential emotional confession, at least I'll have said what I needed to say, and then I can continue (read: begin) to move on. Logan needs to know that the way he is treating me is not fair.

All I want to do right now is swallow a bottle of my meds, and fall asleep forever.

"How empty of me

To be so full of you"

— Janet Jackson, "Interlude: Full"

Goodnight xo