December 5, 2004
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        I'm such a fucking pussy.  I see myself as a rough and tuff guy, most people do too..  Generally those of you who have been reading can determine rather quickly that I'm not exactly an average Joe.  (Nice pun, I know.)  I'm not scared of anyone or anything.  I call it how it is and you better be weary of telling me anything because I have no conviction about throwing shit right back in your face.  With that said, there is the on going, everlasting, seemingly never ending, mind draining, heart straining, god I'm sick of this situation with that woman.  I don't take this kind of shit from anyone.  When women start to talk about dumb shit, and we all know that they have a tendency to do that, I put them in their place by saying to shut the fuck up.  I have a very strict zero tolerance policy for drama.  Don't bring your laundry to me because I don't want to hear it.  I want to know what you have to say about the environment and politics and all that jazz.  I've been through this shit before, but w/ her I'm not like that.  I hang on her every word.  I love to hear about her life and where she got her jeans and stuff like that.  Normally those types of conversations make me want to reach for the Tylenol.  Maybe it's just the fact that we are catching up.  Maybe it has to do with the fact that I'm just so glad when we are together that I don't really care what we do.  I remember when we were kids just lying together all night holding each other.  Sometimes having little conversations about nothings, sometimes just laying there in quiet holding each other pretending the rest of the world didn't exist.  That's what I miss.  I mean sex was great.  We are both freaks, and she is hot but that doesn't matter now.  (So I keep telling myself)  We were such close friends.  We were and are family.  That's the bottom line.  If someone I love tells me they are just a little happier with me who am I to turn them away?  I talked to Jaegan last night, ran the whole dilemma by him.  Objectively speaking, I should be the one to break it off, so he says.  In other words, I should be the one who is rational and reasonable enough to see the wrong in our actions.  And he's right.  This was the case in the 8th grade and it's the same thing now� SIX YEARS LATER.  I should find a moral dilemma in our decisions.  But I don't.  I feel shame in the disappointment my parents and family would feel.  I am a better person than this.  I can make all the excuses but we must accept responsibility for our decisions, this is what makes us adults.  The truth is, she came to me, and I couldn't say no.  That's not what troubles me, however.  What troubles me is how much responsibility I accept when shit goes down.  Honestly, I have nothing to loose.  And even though the resultant would lead me more depressed than I am, I can always turn to alcohol.  Good old No. 7 Tennessee whiskey will be there for me.  What about her?  She asked me what I would do if she came to me. (As a result her of leaving her marriage I presume.)  What would I do?  Which Joe would receive her?  The sadistic matter-of-fact asshole that would tell her she is getting what she deserves and it's not my problem, or the caring, loving, wanting to save her Joe.  It speaks more to what kind of person I am deep down inside.
     Yesterday, she came by and we were watching a movie.  We were just lying on the couch and her kid crawled up and fell asleep in her arms.  My arms around her, her arms around the little rascle.  It felt like a classic Norman Rockwell image.  I just tuned out the movie and fell into a timeless moment.  I almost didn't want to breath just so I could hold on to that moment.  I'm sure she shares those kinds of moments all the time and never thinks twice about it.  But those are the fleeting moments in life that make it all worth it.  Those are the moments that most of take for granted.  I looked at her and told her that these were the moments that I had dreamt we would share for the rest of our lives.  She turned and looked at me in away that only she can, and in a whisper as to not awake the little one asked if I was referring to lying together w/ her child.  I corrected her, and said I had hoped it would have been our child.  But, as a good book once said, that was then this is now.  On one side we're not the same kids that sat in front of each other in 8th grade 6th period art class.  I'm ok now.  I'm not looking to be with her in the relationship sense.  I do want to be close to one of my friends, one of my family.  But for now, we are just pretending.  I guess we'll just keep pretending till we get woken up, again.  And then...who knows.
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