(This entry is brought to you by Mad Bitch Belgian Ale.)

Okay, so that last entry was just a bunch of whining with no real substance.

This one will be whining with an attempt to put something behind the gripes.

I know what's really bothering me.

Actually it's two things.

Back in June I wrote about how I felt I needed/wanted some companionship during that Las Vegas trip. Back in June I did have a specific companion in mind, but that's not really important now. Look it up if you want.

During my most recent trip I had zero motivation to do anything at all. There I was, in perhaps the most exciting city in the world, where fun lurks around every corner, and all I wanted to do was watch TV and drink beer.

The reason I had zero motivation is that I was alone, and I knew it. I wanted someone to spend time with, to do the fun things with, but there was nobody there. I didn't, this time, have anyone specific in mind - just an idea of what would make things interesting.

That I'm noticing this aloneness - this has been nagging at me for a couple of weeks now. If I find myself no longer able to enjoy my own company, just where does that leave me? I don't get along casually with just anybody. Hell, I spent the week avoiding my coworkers so I wouldn't have to hang out with them. It takes a special person to make me feel really comfortable just being myself, and that person used to be me. What if I'm no fun anymore?

If I find that I need companionship to have a good time then I'm in big trouble, because I don't make close friends that easily, and the women aren't exactly beating a path to my door. Some of them are even getting the hell out of Dodge, er, New Albany.

If I can't keep myself entertained then I'm basically screwed. I'll become a lone wolf, howling at a moon that doesn't care about my torment.

So that's one thing that's been bothering me.

The other thing is a little strange, even for me.

When a certain person left I became pretty screwed up. I couldn't sleep, I couldn't think, I couldn't do much of anything except keep breathing and hope for some kind of relief. Once I'd finally become somewhat accustomed to that, the situation changed for the worse. My mood sank lower that it had ever been in my life. That's what it took for me to regain some perspective, and now I can with some confidence say that I'm through letting myself be tortured. Annoyed, yes. Pained, maybe. Tortured, no. I'm much better now.

Really, I am.

Good for me, right?

That's what I thought.

Now, and this sounds really silly to me as I type it, I find myself bored. I actually miss the sadness and the heartbreak. That empty space beside me at Rich O's was not much, but it was something I could count on being there each and every time I went there for two months. That numbness in my chest did not feel good, but it reminded me that I was alive. That phantom vibration in my hip was not announcing an incoming phone call - it was snapping me out of my funk, however briefly, and giving me hope, however slight.

Now there's nothing. It's just me again, and like I said earlier, I may not be enough.

This Fall was a very interesting time in my life, to say the least. Now I feel like the interesting times are over, and it may be a long time before they come again.

If they ever do.