I can taste it. I can breathe it. I can see it… this is real. The beginning, the end, but still part of the same story that will never be finished until I am. It’s no longer a secret – all the whispers have been shed and put to GOOD use instead of safe keeping. And I am more afraid than I’ve been in a long time. Sometimes communication leaves gaps that I wish were filled a little more, and honestly I feel like today is my last day alive. I feel dead. I have never ever felt dead before in my life. And whats all this ‘moving on’ crap? That’s shit. I hate it. People shouldn’t have to move on. We should just be able to ‘leave’ it behind instead of having to face all that’s in the past. I thought that’s why it was called the past. Because it already happened. WHY do people have these kinds of memories – is it the death of us? I wish I could erase the chalkboard. People say that – but ya know? It’s ridiculous, because didn’t it always bother you how the teacher left a little bit of what they wrote up there? That extra 'h' or the dot for the ‘j’? Or even worse – when you could see the ghostly shadows of words that have since passed on into your notebooks when you wrote it down. The reminents of a Tangled Word Battle…. And you’d hate to sit there and stare at the carnage. That’s what most people don’t realize about ‘wiping the slate’. There’s always that evil word carnage that you have to endeavor. Always, always.

Most people love new starts, but I hate them, because I realize what I have to deal with when it arrives and stares me in the eye. Seriously – from now on, I’m going to do ANYTHING I can to have as few ex boyfriends as I can in life. Because this whole breaking up business isn’t up my alley. And it doesn't help that I'm not good at it, either!

Sometimes when you find yourself up a creek, that’s exactly what you find. Yourself. When in a situation that includes 2 you tend to become those 2 people and forget about the beautiful things that YOU love and are a part of. Your heart becomes a worship shrine to that good ‘ol other half of you, and you wonder why you’re not exactly as happy as you ‘should be’. And everyone seems to know it around you – except FOR you, of course, because if that were the case then life wouldn’t be confusing – and we can’t have THAT now, can we? Sure things can make one smile and laugh, and it feels REALLY good, too, but I think it takes an even stronger person to feel miserable sometimes, because seriously, that’s a lot of things to deal with at once. To face each day with - even if you're 'dead', like me =).

And now I have it. Sitting here in the palm of my hand and my heart somewhere on the line – and I’m chasing down a dream. This happiness is REAL – but can it really be that I DO want what I can’t get? I think this would be a whole lot more simplistic if he were here. I could use his friendship to help me heal his wounds, and his ‘love’ – given certain circumstances – to help me survive. And of course, it would be a two way thing.

Here we are – sailing ships w/skeletons hidden in our closets resisting to be let out – it doesn’t feel good to be sunbleached. And our sails are carrying us nowhere – not like we have a destination or anything – but all in the same – wish the wind would surprise us and carry us to where we should be. Or need to be. Or perhaps, would WANT to be. And the times are changing rapidly around us, like the currents that carry the body of this moaning ship. And as usual, I have the typical worries. Where should I be, why aren’t I there, what do I need to do. And I truly wanna laugh out so loud about how screwed up I am, but I don’t, because I know it will just morph into a joke. Which I’m sure it will eventually do anyway – but I wanna stay away from that for a while. I’m not there quite yet.

I KNOW I need a best friend right now, and I’m so screwed that I made my companion my best friend. Future advice: That's really not good unless you’re married to them – least, what I think. Because who’s shoulder are you gonna cry on when you break up? Who’s shoulder is HE gonna cry on when you break up? And finally, you can’t break your best friends heart. Because no one knows them better than you do. And no one EVER knows what kind of glue to use.

Written: Early August 2000

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