Disaster management

I feel so helpless.
Reach out to me, Josh. Let me in.
Let me hold you.
Yeah. I think we both know that can't happen.
I'm way past the point of trusting myself just to hold you.
But I so want to hold you together. With duct tape if that's what it takes.

I want you to know how amazing you are. I want you to know that we all make mistakes and screw up and make bad calls and beat ourselves up about it and you're no worse than anyone else ... In fact, you may be most amazing man I've ever with, will ever measure.

You take it so hard. I understand why. I just wish there was something I could do.

Something I could do to make you believe in yourself again.
Something I could do to bash these people's heads together and make them see how amazing you are.
Something I could do to take this pain from you, this tension.

Let me in, Josh. I hate when you're like this.

When you hurt I'm hurting too. You feel helpless. And I feel helpless because there's nothing I can do to take that feeling from you.

You should bear in mind all the things that you do right.

You should bear in mind that ... I'm here. I'll even make you coffee if you like. Foot massage. Hug. The love of a good woman. Anything.

See how self-sacrificing I am.

Well, I've managed to make myself smile at least. Which is something, I guess. But what I wouldn't give to see your dimples again this week ...

4th July 2003

He probably thinks I didn’t notice.
I always notice.

And then I go home, put on When Harry Met Sally, have a good cry, drink wine, eat Ben and Jerry’s Half-Baked ice cream, and pull myself together.

4th July. Independence Day. I am a strong, independent woman and I will not be reduced to a snivelling wreck by a man.

Not by this man.
Not again.

Are you in love with Josh? What was that, a warning shot? A pre-emptive strike? Watch out girl, if you are, because I’m gonna steamroller over you...

WHAT IS HE DOING WITH HER?

Surely the spell should be broken by now?

Anyway. I’ll go for white tonight. And maybe Cookie Dough. Just, you know, for a change.

So, am I? (and a million other questions)

It's 5am and Josh sent me home to get some sleep. Sleep! At a time like this. Obviously,I'm desperately worried about Zoey – we all are – so many unanswered questions - and I’m worried too that Josh will be somehow feeling guilty about this too.

But, mostly, I’m tossing and turning and replaying that conversation with Amy and wondering what do I do now? I mean, if it’s that glaringly obvious...

From the moment the words were out of my mouth – you gotta get Josh­ – and she looked at me like that, I knew. I could feel, hear almost, my heart beating faster and louder. I knew that I’d just gone down the path of no return. That any idiot would take about five seconds to reach the conclusion that Amy, being no idiot, whatever else she may be, reached in about one.

That I get him. That I’m tuned to him. That we know each other so intimately that it’s hard to believe we are just boss and assistant, sometimes even hard to believe that our relationship has never gone beyond friendship, and quite possibly never will.

I wish she wouldn’t bring him up like that. And then ask me for advice. What does she want from me? Is it just that she wanted to confirm what she knew all along and just led me there a strange and convoluted way? But why would she do that? For the same jealous, protective reasons that I sometimes do things? Who knows.

Maybe in a weird way she blames me for them not working out, and maybe that helps her. You know what? I secretly hope she does blame me. No, that’s not really what I mean. What I mean is that I hope (vainly, I realise) that I am the reason. And I hate that I hope that. It’s so juvenile, so, well, ugly. (But if I can’t be honest in my diary...)

I was just starting to like her and get on with her and manage to put all that behind me. It was kinda fun working together and getting a bit tipsy together. I hate those jealous feelings that rise up in me when I think about... I don’t like the person I feel myself becoming in those moments. This fierce protectiveness. It’s so unattractive. But, seemingly, unavoidable.

I hated it when she was with him, and now I can see why. Obviously, there’s the whole jealousy thing. But she still doesn’t know him (like I do, I might add). How can she have been with him all that time and not understand the fear that drives him? And how was it ever going to work with someone who just, well, didn’t get him, didn’t see to the very core of him as a person, as a vulnerable man who needs to be cared for and looked after? Did she never get past the arrogant, I’m-always-right, it’s-all-about-the-politics exterior? How is that possible after all that time with him? Did she just not care enough about him to find out? And how could he possibly bear to be with someone who couldn’t see into the depths of his soul?

He deserves better than that. So much better.

And anyway, am I in love with Josh?

Is it not just a soft spot for a very good friend, as I’ve been intermittently trying to tell myself all these years? It would make things a lot less... complicated. Be a lot more ... convenient. But has the disadvantage of, well, not being especially true.

And what the hell am I meant to do with this information?

Huh?

Someone tell me that... someone... anyone?! Wonder if Amy is still awake. Maybe I should call her. Ha!

Are you in love with Josh?

What kind of question is that?

I stared at the diary for way longer than I needed to, to compose myself, before I replied.

I hope I played it right.

Inauguration and snowballs

Wow.

My heart is beating so fast that I'm surprised I can even hold a pen.

Where to start? Where to even start writing about this?

I think perhaps by stating this: I am a woman very much in love.

I know you knew that. I suspect it’s blindingly obvious to anyone who has been watching me. But there have been times when I doubted it. There have been times I was unaware of it. There have been times when the very thought of being so much as infatuated with this infuriating man... well, you get the picture.

But, oh my goodness, tonight. He has never looked so incredibly attractive as when he told me I looked amazing (!!! :) !!!). I have never seen such tenderness in him. Tenderness – for me. Unmistakable, for once.

So unmistakable, in fact, that I’m re-assessing many of the ambiguous moments of the last few years in this new light.

Well, re-assessing sounds very level-headed and practical, and I can assure you that right now I am feeling neither of those things. My feet have not touched the ground since my window got attacked by snowballs.

Who said romance was dead?

He couldn’t even finish telling me off properly. He didn’t even flinch before his gave me his coat.

Maybe there’s more to this than just a daydream. Maybe he has those daydreams too.

The dictionary definition of “wistful”, by the way, is this: full of longing or unfulfilled desire.

Not for much longer... hopefully. Come on, Josh. You’re da man.

You’re certainly mine.

No more sailors. I don’t care how many buttons or sabres they have.

You, in a tux from Gary’s, is fine by me.

Oh, my goodness. So much more than fine.

Finally, Hawaii!!

I don't think there is even a word for what I'm experiencing right now. I've looked in the thesaurus, and I can't find anything.

Happiness doesn't even begin to describe it.

Ecstasy is too short-lived.

Contentment - definitely not enough raw passion in that.

Paroxysms of delight- I read that in "Inevitable", the novel that Josh's cousin Claire wrote and that I'm so glad I made time to read. Highly recommended. You will laugh, you will cry, you will throw the book at the wall in frustration. Anyway, I digress.

Euphoria - An intense or exaggerated feeling of well-being or elation. Well, it's definitely intense(ardent, burning, consuming, fervent) but it is not exaggerated. It's a perfectly natural reaction given the circustances.

Because Josh and I -

Wow, well, there it is. Just that phrase. "Josh and I". "We." Wow.

What do you call all those things mixed together plus the release of years of frustration and just this sense that wow, finally, after all this time, that which I'd given up hoping for has come to pass, and I want it more than ever, and it's everything I have dreamed of, and more...?

I guess the smack high analogy will have to do us for now.

I'm going on vacation with Josh.

Josh and I are going on vacation.

Together.

Without a blackberry.

Just the two of us. Hawaii. (He does listen, it would appear.) And a lot of - fun. Maybe a few serious conversations. But mainly, fun.

The Donna of eight years ago would be doing cartwheels right now.

This Donna is, too, but she's managing to keep them inside for now. I'm not really sure how.

Now, where did I put that bikini?

Holy Nights and elephants

“It’s not what it looks like.”

What did he mean?

Man, I wish he would just come out and say what he means.

I’m just about running out of patience. And room in that metaphorical notebook where I keep a record of all the weird moments we are meant to ignore. (Well, okay, it’s not exactly metaphorical, since this is pretty much it.)

Let’s have this conversation, admit we are attracted to each other, decide it’s not a good idea that anything happens, but that maybe, in four years... And then maybe kiss a little bit. And then maybe...

Anyway, I’m being whisked off in a helicopter to spend a snowy, romantic Christmas with a very attractive man who looks a little like Christian Slater. So I’m not complaining.

Though Josh getting me drunk at the Hawk and Dove does sound like it could have been nice.

Sometimes I think us getting horribly drunk is the only way we’re ever going to deal with this elephant. You know, the one in the room. The one in the bullpen. The one, according to Wikipedia, where “people in the room who pretend the elephant is not there might be concerning themselves with relatively small and even irrelevant matters, compared to the looming big one”.

Except, in our defence, the issues with which we concern ourselves are not small and definitely not irrelevant. Child poverty? I mean, come on.

But, still. We’re just going to leave this elephant there? Does one of us have to have a(nother) near-death experience or something? I hope not. That was stressful enough the first time round.

Maybe we can get drunk some other time instead. New Year, maybe?

Come on, Donna, get a grip, and focus on the happiness that is here, right in front of you, very, very pleasant, and, you know, real, and not all in your head.

So let's recap.

I really like Jack and he is very handsome. And also, let us not forget, able to, you know, do something about how he feels about me. He is also powerful. And, well, lovely. I really like him. Did I say that already?

So I’m off to my snowy Christmas... romance on the horizon. At last. Sigh.

(A contented sigh, for once. Not a wistful or longing or frustrated sigh. At least I don’t think so.)