It feels like this day has doubled from twenty-four hours to forty-eight which is simply a reflection of how long I've been up. I went to all three classes. Gave an awesome voice recital which was actually the highlight of my entire day. I know I did really quite well. I think it's all the emotional baggage I feel locked in me... Linda (my instructor) lets me have center stage six times during the semester (maybe more if I should so choose) and I belt out all of my emotions on stage. I know I should be in character (*should* being the operative word) but sometimes I will do what I call impromptu singing and the release is better than any other feeling one could have. The results positively showed, all feedback from my classmates aside.
By the time I reached my abnormal psychology class tonight--I was emotionally and physically drained. I took my second test of the semester--a mutiple-choice test containing seventy-five questions covering somotoform disorders, dissociative disorders, mood disorders, eating disorders, suicide, and substance abuse disorders. I don't think I did very well but already plan to do extra credit and we'll see where that takes my final grade. Then this evening, we talked about sexual dysfunction and sexual disorders. On a topic like sex, you'd think I'd be wide awake. Actually, the discussion about sharing a bed and getting "that" reward for free was hard for me to hear. At that moment, I was hungry to delve into the sexual thoughts and history of all my female classmates in my abnormal psychology class--a sure sign of loneliness and not a sign of being horny! But I was falling asleep. It's simply hard for me to carry three classes spread out in one day. I also had issues in the back of my mind with my friend Amber. Things heated up between her and I late tonight--and not in a good way.
Lately, I've felt that this friendship was one-sided. Amber has been so preoccupied with her life that I have to wonder what my options are and whether I need to shift my perspective. The last five times I've called, she could have chosen to pick up her cell phone, excitedly say "hey" and then politely tell me she was busy. She could have acknowledged me in the conversation the five alternate times she called when she wanted someone to listen to her day, by asking me how I am and take an interest in what was going on in my life. Amber could have acknowledged my heart-felt sincerity (which she didn't) when I sent her an e-greeting card three weeks ago, letting her know I cared about everything she was going through. All she said when I finally told her I sent her an e-greeting card was "ok". "Ok"? What kind of rude, crappy answer is that! I don't feel that this friendship is evenly balanced and feel as if I have only two choices: either I can say nothing and have this friendship be on her terms and whim, or I can voice my displeasure and totally upset the apple cart--her's. I just don't understand why we only talk when she texts or calls me. Whenever I reach out to her, she's busy--too busy to put down the book she's reading or the stitchery work she's doing for fun. Because her being busy isn't uually with things that have to get done. Her being busy is with something that always seems more important than cultivating what is SUPPOSED TO BE a two-way friendship. I just don't get it. If I ever said I was busy to her when she would call or text me, not only would we never talk, but I'd lose her friendship. And I'm not even sure at this point why we're friends. I feel used. When she needed me was when her ex Konrad (who has Asperger's) lied to her about his vasectomy and then got her pregnant and walked off. But I shouldn't be the scape goat for Amber's misfortune and miscarriage. Nor should I even stick around if all I am to her is some therapeutic convenience item.
A large part of me tonight in class, wanted all my female classmates to have sex with me. NSA. I just wanted the uncomplicated comfort of having a woman really like and take an interest in me without using me. When my instructor was talking about human sexuality and sharing a queen-size bed, I wanted to see my female classmates nude, hear their sexual history, and delve into their sexual world. I wanted the comfort of having just one female friend take part of my life and turn it into something that no orgasm could give me--without drama or complications. I hunger for that. The idea of celibacy isn't my cup of tea. Is having sex with a 20-something Aspie girl the way to go? How can I get laid in a way that I can share so much more of myself in an unorthodox manner than just my body and my genitals? What does it take to endure countless failed relationships and friendships with women who could never really understand me?