I'm not really sure when I crossed this particular line. Sometime between two years and two months ago, if I had to guess. Sadness became a hard thing to muster, and anger became the easiest thing in the world.

I don't like it, but there it is. Things are, as always, what they are.

The quiet contemplative moments are what I crave and relish, but they're too few and too far between for any semblance of normalcy. There is very little silence within me. I just have to feel something, and feel it strongly, and that's all there is to it.

So I turn my back on the anger that the world expects, and I face the sadness that only I truly understand. Because the thoughts that rise from anger, deserved as they may be, don't fit. They don't fit my heart or my head or the world or the universe. I don't want them. I don't want to think those things about her.

So, I choose to be sad.

Funny, she was right about that. I didn't know it at the time, but she was right. Faced with the choice I've been given, I choose sadness.

The last time CartGirl was at my house, she sat on the couch while I sat on the loveseat. Buddy watched her cautiously from the coffee table, probably in case she had food in her purse. Nugget, of course, hid under the couch and made sure his will was up-to-date. After a couple of hours, CartGirl left, and Buddy jumped onto the couch, curled up right where she had been sitting, and went to sleep.

That was sweet.

I've been wanting, for a long time, to write an entry - or even a series of entries - describing sweet as I see it. Regarding girls, not cats, though the example above certainly fits my definition of the word. Or at least one of my definitions. I seem to have several. I find a different one every time I rummage through my head.

Eventually, I hope to write definitively about what sweet means to me. This is not that time, but eventually.

Tossed and turned all night. Too damn hot. Too damn much second guessing of everything.

The birds and the crickets outside my open windows squawked and chirped their disappointment all night, scolding me. The lightning bugs flashed their disgust. The stars blinked in disbelief at what I'd said.

I needed more time to find words, but there was none to be found. The time was upon me, the questions asked, and I had to answer with the inadequate and jarring words I had. Silence, though, would have been worse.

I would have liked to have been able to offer solutions instead of just problems. I would have liked that very much. But I didn't, and I still haven't. Solutions evade me, if they exist at all. I look for them, but all I find are increasingly-unlikely miracles.

There was a time when I'd simply stay quiet. Then there was a time when I'd just walk away. Those times are in the past. Now is the time to speak up. For, if anything is to be saved, it won't be saved by my turning the other cheek. If anything is to be saved, that salvation will have to start with honest words.

My words have always been honest. I only wish they'd been more tactful.

I kinda feel cruddy this morning. I slept too long, for one thing. My alarm went off at 4:00, and then I reset it to go off at 5:00. I didn't need that extra hour. I also didn't have any particular reason to get up at 4:00, though.

I hope it's just too much sleep that's got me feeling cruddy. I hope it's not allergies coming on. I have, after all, been sleeping with my windows open for the last several weeks.

I also feel bad for venting yesterday. But I'll get over it. Stuff needed to be said, and this is a better place than most.

Talked to StupidGirl for a bit last night. Things are looking much better for her. She's accepted responsibility for what happened, and they're giving her another chance. I'm so glad, even though it means she won't be coming here anytime soon. It really sucked when she was so sad and I couldn't do anything about it or even give her a hug.

Nugget is still hanging in there. Poor kitty is so skinny now.

This is shaping up to be the hottest week of the year so far. Not having air conditioning is pretty rough, but it's not as bad as I'd feared. The whole-house fan really does a lot of good. The main problem is that, because of the humidity, everything in my house feels like it's coated in a layer of slime. Gross, I know.

I guess that's it for now. Time to take a shower and go into work.

I actually managed to get to sleep fairly quickly last night. That was weird, because I'd really been expecting the day's events to keep me tossing and turning.

I had a dream about me and this one certain girl going to some house and breaking in. It was all her idea. Some Christmas thing, I think. The dream turned into a horror/thriller kind of thing. A cross between The Shining and The Blair Witch Project. When I woke up I was creeped out for quite a while. I wish I could write fiction, because it would make an awesome short story.

Another dream I had was more in the sci-fi/action genre. It was pretty interesting to be in the dream, but it probably wouldn't make a compelling story. Something about a house with lots of hidden rooms, and some pod-people with blue blood. Then I woke up right as the big lesbian scene was about to start. So that sucked.

Let me make sure I've got this straight. I'm stupid, and I'm a liar, and I'm crazy, and I'm a drunk. But I'm a stupid lying crazy drunk with a truck, so that makes me useful?

Well, as sweet as that is, I'm afraid that I have to decline.

I wish I could make myself believe that this was simply being used as a convenient excuse to see me for some other, nicer, reason, but I can't. And I don't.

Reconciliation is what's needed. Rebuilding is what's needed, if it's even possible, for I may have been irrevocably destroyed. We may have been irrevocably destroyed. Even if it's somehow possible to fix things between us, nothing is going to happen without major changes. Changes that I can't make on my own.

And attempting to take further advantage of my feelings does not count as a major change. And neither does name-dropping another guy eight sentences into a conversation. It's just the same old crap. Problem is, I'm no longer the same person, and I won't put up with it anymore.

Especially not when I'd fully expect to be tossed aside as soon as my services were no longer needed.

Act like a certain kind of person often enough and, eventually, I'm going to believe you're that kind of person. And then, eventually, I'm going to treat you like that kind of person.

I'm so very sorry that it's turned out this way, but I didn't get here on my own. I was pushed and dragged. And I was kicking and screaming all the way here. Remember? I certainly do.

Sure, I worked hard, and sure, I put up with a lot of shit, but it was worth it. Or it was going to be worth it. My payday was going to be huge. I was, in fact, going to be set for life.

Didn't work out that way.

Oh well, right?

Sometimes I manage to find that attitude inside me. That oh well attitude that the world expects me to be displaying by now. Sometimes I throw in an at least I tried but not too often because it's usually followed by but I obviously didn't try hard enough

And that sucks, because I really don't know if I was capable of trying any harder.

---

Yeah, so I've pretty much shut down my life. Work and home are pretty safe, for now. Stupid Jack's on Sundays, stupid Bearno's or Korner Pub on others days - they feel fairly safe, for now. Eventually, that safety could be revealed as an illusion, and then I'll retract even more.

It's not the same as it was before. Now, there's too much overlap causing too much paranoia and fear. Places and people and circumstances, huge chunks of my life, are off-limits to me. Not quite six months may as well be not quite six seconds or not quite six centuries. There'll never be enough time for this to become a part of my past. It's a part of who I am, and so I carry it through time with me.

I've made progress, that's for sure. But there'll never be enough. I cling to this slippery slope. Resting is hard enough, climbing is almost impossible, but I do make progress sometimes. Every now and then, I lose purchase and begin to slide back down. So far, I've been lucky. I've managed to catch myself and halt my descent. But my luck won't last forever. Only this slope lasts forever.

This is my life now. Clinging for life, when it would be so easy to let go, and so exhilarating to slide back down.