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2004-03-05 - 9:12 a.m.

I'm so angry and anxious over this whole "Are we moving or aren't we?" thing that I've been having panic attacks and fits of spitefulness.

Its an uglier side of myself that I haven't really had to face before. Part of me thinks, "Well I'll just move by myself" but do I really want to do that? Then I think of saying horrid things that I'm not sure I even mean, like, "You've got two choices: move to Vegas or move out."

I tried to pin him down to a date when he will make his decision but he just sort of evaded my questions.

I know that my emotions are over the top but its so frustrating.

I'm not sure who I'm more angry with: Him for telling everyone that we were moving, making it seem like a done deal and then undoing it all, or Me, for buying into it, believing it, and investing so much of myself in this decision when we've gone through all this discussion before and nothing ever came of it.

Maybe its wrong of me to feel like moving to Vegas is my only chance to change my life into something I can be happy with. Maybe I should be exploring other options here in New York.

Its just that I've been operating under this idea of leaving and to alleviate the fear I've allowed myself to pick apart the things that I dislike about New York in order to be happier about leaving. I've created this desire to escape.

It gotten so that I have thought so much about never having to take that subway again, the idea of staying feels like a prison sentence.

I need to get away, at least for a little while, get my head back together...but where can I go?

I'm supposed to go to this charity art auction tonight and its the last thing in the world I want to do. My friends are all going to happy hour but I can't bear the thought of anyone asking me about the move. I might lash out.

I have to much time to think and too few thoughts occupying my head that they swell up like sponges, or more like boils filled with putrid pus. They need to be lanced and drained somewhere sterile and secluded.

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