Once upon a time...

What happens when you can't keep track of a real diary.

Thursday, August 05, 2004

So very strange.

A few nights ago, a wonderful friend did me the greatest favor.

She explained Kelly's motivations for wanting a divorce.

She was able, on the first attempt, to make it clear to me why Kelly changed so abruptly, and why she was then unable to stay married to me. Kelly had been 'wearing a mask'. She had been doing only what was expected of her, which was fine to her, as long as I was there to gently reinforce the facade. When she joined the Army, and was gone for the greater part of the year, my presence no longer pushed her back into her role, and she had a chance to understand who she was. She was somebody completely different than she thought

I had no idea.

Now, of course, she would defend that newfound identity fiercely. I can't fault her for that. I ... Well, while it did hurt, immensely, to find out that my marriage, and my love was a lie, I am thankful to understand what happened. It is, at least, a resolution. Something I had been missing. With that understanding, came also an agreement. No, I would not have wanted Kelly to put back on a false face, to pretend for me.

I think maybe I can go on now.

I don't think I will ever be able to repay that friend for what she did. I'm not entirely certain that she understands how deeply that affected me. All I can do is be her friend.

Thank you.

Monday, August 02, 2004

Poor choices within the last 48 hours. Putting other people's issues before my own responsibilities. Silly. Making poor attempts at humor that appeared to have been taken amiss. What to do? Eh. What is there to do - time to simply move on. Obsessing over minor, embarrassing idiocy accomplishes nothing.

More importantly, I need to decide how to handle my summer courses. One good week of studiously ignoring said courses has set me back. When I get out of work today, I will need to zip home and work, work, work. Midterm is tonight at 6pm. I need to get Homework 3 done by then as well. The program can actually wait until after the test with no setback.

Making the assumption that I will be able to accomplish this, I'll be well and truly back on track.

Yay me.

Bah - I would really like to do something for my birthday. I'm perfectly happy with going in to Rocky that night, but I would like to hang out with friends prior to that. Heck, or even the next day. Last year's birthday present was my divorce. I want to bury that in happiness. I want to break the dread I feel for that day.

I've been telling everyone that Saturday is my birthday in what I am sure is a thinly veiled attempt for attention. I want this one to be good. I want to be around friends. I'm so... I'm...

I'M SO GOD DAMNED TIRED!

I'm tired of being scared and sad and depressed and angry and fucking pathetic about this. So I broke down again. So I had to go find a corner to hide in while I sobbed at work again. So what? I'm tired of it. I want to prove to that angry little boy upstairs that it's ok, that I am going to continue with life. He's let me have my way this year. He's let me try and rebuild. He's been waiting. He's clung to his anger.

Now.

Now is the time that he thinks he can win.

I've been weakening this last week. My happy little facade faded quite a bit on Saturday night. Enough that people commented on it and asked if I was ok. That's not good. I'm finding it harder to smile. My jocularity is coming out more flat. I'm withdrawing. I recognize that, and I am trying to fight it. I'm forcing myself to talk to people, to engage them in personal conversations. It's going poorly. I broach the wrong subjects, I make uncomfortable connections and observations. Granted, it doesn't change the fact that I would see these connections anyway. I see patterns and connections in everything. It's just the way I am, the way I think. The difference is that I wouldn't bring them up in conversation. I recognize that people generally don't like hearing about wildly tenuous connections between people, actions, and motivations. I ... to hell with this.

I need to sleep more - Sleep Deprivation makes me emotional.