It’s 10:30. I’m sitting at the kitchen table since I cleared off a space on it. Zane is in the room sleeping. He was up late and isn’t ready to wake up yet.

Yesterday was another day that started well enough and then ended badly. For both of us.

There was an off-handed comment, I’m sure it was meant to be self-depreicating and a ‘joke’, But it wasn’t funny to me. And I don’t know what to do with the swarm of anger and sadness inside me.

I scanned my artwork yesterday before leaving school. I got to see Mike, a co-worker who was moved to a different department. I got to see Sean as well and split a cookie with him since there was leftover food in the breakroom from some meeting that had happened.

I went home and was able to go to kickboxing. It was a good workout, but the sound system kept messing up so it was a little frustrating. I came home and had time to spend with Zane before showering and going to dinner.

I had a wonderful evening with Nicole, Marc, and Desiree. I might be seeing Nicole on Thursday before she leaves town at 3 in the morning on Friday. She’s nervous but excited about her move. I’m hoping everything works out for her. She deserves it.

I came back home afterwards, and that when things got a little icky.

The sink was full of dishes, and none of them were mine. I had cleaned the kitchen before I left for work, and it had been empty before going out to dinner. Zane was in the room watching anime. He had drawn a little bit earlier in the day while I was at work, and I actually like how his sketch turned out, but he had said job stuff would happen and it didn’t seem like anything had.

And this was after I had a conversation with my mom where I said I felt like the situation was different. How I reassured her that even though the situation was rough and sort of sucky, that I felt like leaving would be the wrong thing. I felt like I was eating my words.

Zane asked what was wrong, I mentioned the kitchen, which he said he would take care of. I asked about job applications. He hadn’t done anything. He would tomorrow.

I said ok.

He asked if I was alright. I was quiet for a little while, then I said that I didn’t know how I was supposed to feel. That I didn’t want to be angry, but part of me was. I asked what he would feel if he was in my situation.

His answer was angry. I nodded. Scarlet was in the room, sitting in front of me as I sat in my computer chair, contemplating my situation. I ended up curling up on the floor with her so we could cuddle. It was comforting to feel her purring next to me.

Zane actually ended up filling out a few applications while I was spending time with Scarlet. There was silence which I was thankful for.

One of the applications he is in the process of filling out is for a post office position. It pays 15 an hour, but I guess the application is beyond annoying since it is a government job. He ended up getting frustrated because he has to call a number to get some information, so he didn’t finish the application last night.

Instead he stopped. He would finish it when he woke up since the place he needed to call wouldn’t be open at midnight. We watched an episode of Aldnoah. Three more left. We’re supposed to finish it today, but I don’t think we will. I don’t think I’m up for it. At least not right now.

When the episode was over we started talking. He’s upset and frustrated. He doesn’t want to get a part time job because it won’t be enough money. I had mentioned applying at the grocery stores or other businesses close to the apartment. He doesn’t want to do that. He doesn’t want to work in fast food. He doesn’t want to have to go through that for the fourth time in his life.

I can understand that. But I can also see how it’s not fair to me. He doesn’t feel like he deserves this hardship in his life, but I don’t feel like I deserve it either. I don’t think it’s right that I sell valuable items to cover someone else’s life because they don’t feel like they should have to work a part time minimum wage job while I go to work and not only deal with my stress but the added stress of figuring out how to support someone else.

If he had been working part time minimum wage for the past two months he would have his bike fixed already. He would be able to apply to more jobs because travel wouldn’t be an issue.

I told him that if he worked at all, that the money could go towards the bike. That I would keep covering as much as I could of his expenses so he could get it fixed since that’s one of the main issues.

He said ok. That he would apply to more places.

I don’t know how it came about, but he ended up saying that a solution would be going outside and stepping into traffic but at midnight there wasn’t traffic. How then he wouldn’t be a burden to those around him.

I was furious. I was hurt. I still am.

I left the living room. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t have anything except blind emotion. Righteous fury blended seamlessly with ice cold depression.

I went into the room and had an angry cry where I felt like my actions aren’t enough. My effort and caring aren’t enough. My support isn’t enough.

I can’t be his will to live. I can’t be his will to change. He has to want that for himself. He has to want to be in a different place in life rather than sitting and wallowing in icky, murky water.

Just like me. We both have to want to change, and to actually do things to alter the situation.

I feel like I am. I feel like I’m working on myself, and putting in more effort into maintaining emotional stability. I feel like I’m doing better with the gym and that plays a huge role into it. I feel like I’m trying.

I can’t be the change for him. I can only be an example.

I wish this didn’t hurt.