Well I guess this was kind of inevitable.

Like months ago, when we were thinking about this trip, I had a dream that I got there, to a little city outside the Moscow airport, or about to leave from her apartment or something, with Elena, and we were staying at this weird foreign hostel on opposite ends of the hall, and she was packing and I was telling her not to pack so much, and we were fighting....

I just canceled my trip yesterday. I ate like $500 in penalties, and fees, and perhaps increased my risk of death by coronary a little. But I got most of it back. There's no such a thing as a non-refundable flight, just one where you eat it in shit-tons of penalties. But I got most of it back... and I don't have to worry about killing myself in the next three weeks, and then, possibly, probably, not even being able to go...

Yesterday, after buying my ticket across the country, where I'd fly out of, and then sending out for my VISA, taking care of those final details, I got home to another email from Elena with all these insane costs. I wrote her back like, You can't just keep piling this on, after telling me one price, and then another, and finally when everything seems surmountable it's just a new thing every day... And I called her, and she was like, What did you expect, are you a CHILD? Why didn't YOU think of these things? I'm finding this out as we go along, that's how you plan a trip... and I was like, because you told me to leave it to you, and these figures, and I believed you, and I know you're finding it out as you go along, and I'm not blaming you, but I CAN'T AFFORD this.

And she got all nasty...

And the thing is. She's calling me a CHILD? She's 15 years older than me. She and Valeria can swipe a credit card, when these costs come up. End of story. I have to go fucking whore myself in the gutter every night.

And she asks me why her mother tells her she's selfish.

She is. She has been. For the last year, she hasn't been there for me at all, and in the last few weeks has said some really discouraging things when I just simply ask her not to, and she won't let it go, and... going with her would've been really stressful, and, MAN did I want to go, but.

I feel better now.

I feel so much better.

I can fucking breathe.

I took the situation into my own hands, lesson learned, again, again, but... I made the right decision. And I feel better about it. I can relax during my summer. I can work on my music. And I can go swimming. And I can get myself a desk. And I can write. And I can read. And I can breathe.