How many ways do you wanna die?

I keep hoping for it to get better, for life to improve...but I feel like life doesn't want to help me...it wants to break me down and spit me out. This has to be the single most unluckiest time in my life.

*Dan and I handed in our first month's rent for our new apartment on Saturday. I tried not to flinch when I took a look at my bank account. At least I still had $1,000+ to my name. I won't have that much for a while.

*After much debate and heartache, I finally decided to fork over $600 that I don't have to fix my car through my insurance. My older brother is going to bail me out and lend me $400 to meet the $1,000 deductible. I flinch, cringe and squeeze my eyes in terror to think about my bank account this coming week.

The worst was over, I thought. I sent Edgar a text to formally end our tryst. I had promised to let him know if we got the place in Reseda. My fingers stumbled, I practiced what I'd type in my head...it felt like slow motion. The hours drifted at our family gathering and I waited until Dan was safely home in East L.A. before grabbing my phone. It was time to put an end to what had been scrambling my insides for well over a year.

me: Got the place in Reseda. Paid first month's rent already. We move in Sept. 1st

almost two hours later....

Edgar: Congrats i wish u the best of luck u deserve it.

my insides churn....

me: Thanks. Good luck in law school and don't forget me.

Shit...that sounds needy...like I'm not over it...

Edgar: I wont forget u or ur b-day

I smile....it's a reference to one of our last conversations in which we teased each other for not remember each other's birthday....his is in two days, mine 3 days before Christmas...like a flash, I remember Dan playfully looking at my datebook and asking why I had circled August 25th as "Eddie's Birthday." I lied and said it was our family friend....did he know I secretly called Edgar by a nickname? Guess not.

me: Same here. Good nite.

Good. Done. It's over.

Dan invites me over to his house for a barbecue with his parents. He says to show up around 4. I try to be fashionably late and arrive around 4:35 pm. There are no cars in the driveway, Dan's phone is going straight to voicemail and the answering machine picks up...frustrated, I kill time and talk to my insane friend Chrissy...for 45 fucking minutes. Still no one shows up at Dan's home. I text Dan's mom, asking if he's left his phone behind or something....I'm too embarrassed to tell her I've been waiting for well over an hour infront of their house. She tells me his phone has no charge; no clues as to what's going on. I decide to leave and show my sorry face to my family, who then proceed to berate me.

"Maybe you should rethink moving in with him..." On and on...ughhhhhh. I secretly fight back my own tears behind my pair of Ray Bans. Half of my family scolds me, the other half are indifferent or try to stick up for me.

I feel like a failure.

Dan calls me at 6:30. Two and a half fucking hours later than he should have.

I take out my frustration on him and hang up, cutting him off and not letting that spineless creature get a word in edge-wise. I just want to be moved in so this shit can just end.

I am a hopeless, clumsy character. I can't mend or fix things correctly. I just stormed off on my future roomate, the man I'm supposed to be living and making a home with.

I feel terrible and continue to rot.

I think of Edgar....I think of Voltaire's Candide and how Edgar had done his best to summarize it for me...how this life we have now is the best possible world we could ever have...

Could there not be a world out there in a parallel universe where he and I could be two working professionals, living in a beautiful high rise apartment....he a young lawyer and me an aspiring filmmaker with a promising screenwriting career..attending punk rock shows on Saturdays and Catholic Mass on Sundays. We'd make love furiously and nothing would ever hurt us.

But no. Instead I have a shit ton of guilt, an expensive car repair bill to pay and a boyfriend who is probably regretting forking over rent money to put up with my shit...

I continue to rot away.