Ereshkigal, My Mother

Step by step and measure by measure, I am taking steps to make my new "home" feel more like a home: I have an air purifier, a computer and a computer desk (soon to be connected to the internet?), even a lava lamp for the headboard to my bed. Still, without Tammy I feel utterly alone and full of listless sorrow, so much so that I can neither read nor write for any length of time before an agitated restlessness comes upon me and I end up sitting in front of the house computer, flipping through the same sites over and over again, or checking and rechecking my email. Godlessness, I really want a cigarette! though I know it will taste foul in my mouth and my stomach will recoil and churn against it; and I wonder just how much my despair and anxiety have been magnified by this untimely endeavor.

She told me earlier that she wanted to enjoy some quiet time alone, yet she seems to have been out and about all weekend — unless she simply isn't answering the phone. Either way, I can't shake the feeling that she simply doesn't want to talk to or be around me. So this is what it's come to? I am left feeling deeply wounded, so much so that I am fighting back a mammoth rage: part of me wants to tear at her with hurtful words, and cast the shredded carcass of our love and friendship into Ereshkigal's bleak underworld forever. Hah, how can I cast down that which is not to that place wherein my own heart resides?! Perhaps it would be best for me to depart immediately for Oregon State University, as soon as the opportunity arises, to attempt to fully immerse myself into the prosaic world of calculus and nuclear physics?

Even in doing so, can I escape to desolation that is become my heart? Indeed, I am almost come to the point where I would sooner clothe myself in sackcloth and ashes like Job, bemoaning my fate to a callous and uncomprehending audience that is the world, until the wind I have sown at long last carries me away in a magnificent whirlwind of utter ruination.