July 4th

Woohoo, happy fucking fourth of July. It figures that there's some sort of reason to get out of the house today and Mark and Roger refuse to leave. In the town I grew up in on Long Island, they do a really fantastic fireworks display tonight. My parents told us to come and spend the day. It'd be a free meal for us, but Mark and Roger don't want to go. Of course. Roger still hasn't left the loft yet and Mark still hasn't stopped babying him. The interactions between the two of them are ridiculous and I am really getting fed up.

I even resorted to seducing Mark the other night. I put on a lacy silk black nightgown that exposes way too much thigh to be considered decent, and wore my hair down and wavy, the way Mark likes it. Why he likes my hair the way it looks when I get out of the shower, I'll never understand. I heard the door of Roger's room open and shut gently and knew he was on his way into our room. I posed suggestively on the bed and he opened the door, looked at me, said, "Not right now, Maureen. I just got Roger to sleep and I don't want to wake him."

Since when was Mark in a place where he could turn down sex? "Don't worry Pookie, we'll be quiet." I pouted and looked him in the eye. "I miss you." Lie. If I had said, "I miss the attention that you used to give me but have been lately siphoning over to Roger," that would have been a little more accurate, but whatever.

"Maureen, please. I said not now. Maybe tomorrow or something."

TOMORROW? I actually had to SEDUCE you and you have the audacity to say TOMORROW? That was it. I lost it. I completely lost it on him and I don't feel a bit guilty about it.

"Mark, what the hell is your problem? We haven't had sex in almost a month. A MONTH! Most girls in their right mind would've left you already, but I'm letting it slide because I love you." Another lie. Not about the no sex for almost a month, that is, sadly, true. But the "I love you" part is a stretch. "And not only that," I continued, "But in that almost month, you haven't even spent a full night in the same bed with me. And do you know why that is? Because you've been spending the night with your best friend. God Mark, it's almost like you're cheating on me! But with a guy who lives in the same house as us and is straight!" He said nothing. "I can't do this anymore, Mark. I can't stand to be in the same house with you if you're going to treat me like I'm invisible."

He turned to leave the room. "By the way, Mark," I said, voice saturated in disdain, "I went out and got a fucking job. I'm a waitress at the Life Café. I start work tomorrow."

And might I say, I'm a great actress. I practice my lines, those important one-liners that are made to just tug at everyone's heartstrings and really cut you to the core, and that's what my last line to Mark was. He looked back at me and our eyes met, but I quickly averted my gaze and turned over in the bed, my back to him. The door shut as he left and I knew I had won something here. I'm not sure exactly what I was trying to win, though. A reminder to Mark that he needs to pay attention to me if he wants me to stick around? A sort of self-assertion that I have enough self-respect to ask for a little attention from a guy who supposedly loves me? Or is it possibly a victory over Roger, of whom I grow increasingly more jealous as each day passes?

I don't even know anymore. I'm so confused with what I want. But I do know this: I want to be loved, appreciated, and not shafted under any circumstances, and I don't feel that I am getting any of that here anymore. So although I intend to keep living in the loft for a while, I do not intend to remain tied down to someone who seems to be more attached to his best friend than me. I've got a job now! I'm going to be out all day, working, making friends with the people I work with, and, as an added bonus, meeting all sorts of different customers every day. There's no way I won't find at least one decent person to flirt with every day.

Later…

Mark came back in a few hours ago to apologize for the fact that he's been ignoring me. He said he recognized what he was doing, but he didn't know what to do about it, and since I wasn't complaining he was going to let things continue the way they were going. It's a good thing I'm outspoken and opinionated or he would've lost me for sure! He was very sweet about it, and whenever he looks at me when he's apologizing, those baby blue eyes become the sweetest thing on the planet. He's adorable.

So, naturally, we had fantastic apology sex. One of my favorite kinds of sex, actually, because it's so much more than sex. It's sweet and slow and gentle and it makes me really feel like Mark cares about me. Which is a great feeling. Lately I've been feeling like he'd rather have sex with Roger than me. And I know Mark loves me and I know he doesn't mean to make me feel unwanted, but it's just been happening. He loves me. I know.

But what I don't know is if I love him back. Well, no. I can't say that. I love Mark. I love the attention he gives me. I love how he listens to me complain and bitch and moan and acts like there is nothing else in the world he'd rather do than listen to me and try to make me happy. I love the sex. I love the romantic things that he does. And I love his personality. He's a great person, so much more of a person than I'll ever be. I'll never be as good of a person as Mark.

And maybe that's why I seem to be accepting the fact that I don't feel the need to be in love with him even though we're dating and having sex and he says he's in love with me.

If I were as good of a person as Mark is, I'd feel guilty for what I'm doing to him.

If I were anyone besides myself, I'd probably feel guilty for what I'm doing to him.

But facts are facts: I'm not and I don't. And as great of an actress as I am, I can't pretend this time.