I really don't want to write much, but I should. I spent a nice weekend in Montreal, came by to find the ex- has hooked up with someone. Named Poppy. WTF kind of name is that?!?!?! Okay fine, so mine isn't that better, but at least when you hear the name Jen, you don't want to vomit. Unless you know me, but that's different.

I can't write. I just can't. I'll do a list of the Montreal stuff later, but basically I'll just say that I did it, and it was painful, and now I'm done.

For now, I'm going to look at it as something positive, as well as something that involved hurting my body because everyone else is hurting me.

I think I'm going to go say hi to the pizza guy, since he called me on Saturday and I never called back, and probably break things off with him. I'll work from there.

Oh, and the real big kicker about the ex- and his little seed? He was talking to me on Thursday, the 13th -- our '3-year anniversary'... asking me if I'd want to hang out with him had we been in the same city, etc., etc. Then, I find out today that the two of them hung out on the 13th, and started dating on the 14th -- on Valentine's Day. I don't put that much credence in the day myself, but fuck! When he and I started going out, he didn't want to do anything on the 14th because 'people would talk' -- this was before it was certain that he and I would end up together. His explanation? He was emotionally retarded back then. I'm *ever* so glad that I 'cured' him of that so that now he could move on to be nice and normal for other people.

He said that he tells me about when he's depressed and all because he trusts me and because he doesn't want other people to know just how fucked up in the head he is (his words, not mine). Is it any wonder I feel used sometimes? If I was the new chick on the block, I might feel kinda upset that my new bf was talking to his ex- like that... although I'm sure she doesn't know what he talks to me about or even that he talks to me.

I know I'm no better because I had these other relationships, and in fact, I'm probably much much worse -- this is probably my punishment for everything being unclear and overlapping and whatnot... but I just gotta wonder, wasn't losing my cat enough? I guess not. What they say about karma is true... but I thought I was going back to being an okay person. Guess not.

I hate hurting. I especially hate that my mom is going to be able to look at me and just know that something's wrong. Actually, that's kinda nice, because no one else would... although maybe the coworker. But he's at work, and that's okay. I don't think I'm ready to talk about this (aside from here), and I don't think I want to really tell him. I totally understand him when he says that he can't be just my friend, though, 'cause I feel that way about the ex-. I love him too much to be anything but all to him... and we've never really been anything but all or nothing.

I have to go dry my hair now.