I am sick to death of trying to reconnect week after bloody week.

I feel inept. You see, I go twice a week. On the second day (Thurs) I usually can make some kind of a connection with T. Often, it's a meaningful one. But by the time the following week rolls around I am--once again--scrambling for some sense of the relationship. I mean, I feel like I'm walking into his room for the first time; as if he's just some guy I go and talk to. I don't feel close to him or eager to get there and share my deepest darkest secrets.

The closest emotion I feel right now is some slight embarrassment at some vague memory of past emotions I have let out in his presence.

I have no object constancy beyond about two days. I do the same with my husband, because he works far away from home and doesn't come home every night.

Here today, gone tomorrow, all too familiar. So, I stay in my little cocoon and wrap myself up where it's safe.