I can't remember a single night since JACON that I didn't just start crying at some point in the evening, usually right before falling asleep, because it seems like sleep will only come lately if I simply exhaust myself.

I REALLY HATE CRYING.

This had led to the sudden realization that I'm really not okay at all. I'm entirely not okay with a lot of things going on in my life, and I have no idea why I can't just be honest with people about that. I guess it's because I've been told over and over not to be a burden.

Or maybe it's like, as long as I have some sort of distraction (see: people), I am okay. But the second I find myself alone with only my thoughts, I'm done. I'm fucking done.

I can't fucking do this. Part of me wants to wring Derrick's neck for doing this to me. I can't fucking do this.

I can't, I can't, I can't...



Post 2
Remember the words we use to speak
The promises made have turned to all apologies
The weight of the storm of memories
Still you’re flying to fight the force of gravity

I remember the days I still could breathe
Now I'm sinking beneath, the waves are crashing over me
The empty space I lay between
Is all that's left of where our love was meant to be

The worst thing about this whole deal with Derrick is that my faith is faltering very badly right now. I'll try to explain how these are related:

1. Derrick and I are very alike people, spiritually and religiously. I think it's natural, and entirely healthy/beneficial in the long run to question one's faith. That's how it always is for me, anyways. So when I'm doing exactly that, and I need someone to talk to about it, I could always go to Derrick, and we'd talk really in depth about how we're feeling spiritually, and it's all very calming. I'm honestly not comfortable doing that with anyone else. Very few of my friends are even slightly religious, and hey, that's cool. It doesn't concern me one way or the other. But I kind of wish I hadn't put all of my eggs in one basket

2. I can't go to my church. The one church I have ever found in the history of ever that doesn't simply infuriate me upon stepping on their property, and I can't really go there because it's Derrick's church. Oh ho ho. I mean, I could go, but man, that would be the most awkward service EVER, and he would probably loathe me.

Wow, ranting helped. I'm not full of delirious rage anymore. Some other shit has happened today but I don't feel like talking about it, because I don't know what to say about it. Also, I was intending to talk more about why I'm feeling weird about my faith, but I'm in no mood to deal with being made fun of for believing in God.

Post 3
Anyone who knows me knows that I am not the type of person who can just "not give a shit." Apathy is not a strong point in anything I do, or any actions or paths I choose to take in life.

Never have I wished more that I could bring forth some dam of apathy to cull the emotional torrent that's been continuously racing through me. I can lie all I want, and tell myself that I don't care, but that's all complete, unadulterated bullshit.

Derrick has said his farewells to me. I think, someday, that we can be friends again, but I fear that our friendship will never be as strong as it was for four years, up until five months ago. This scares the ever-loving shit out of me.
"It's funny - you can't function with me in your life, and I can't fully function with you outside of my life."
This was one of the last things I said to him. He said, "I doubt that," but I can't think of many others sentences I've spoken with such truth and candidness.

I put a lot of stake into my relationships with other people. I don't know how much of this I make obvious, but my friends are my tethers that hold me to the dock and keep me from drifting to God-knows-where. And when a friendship is gone, or disintegrated... I don't know what the fuck to do with myself.

We always make plans.
Like continuing his D&D campaign this summer, from where we left off last summer. (and everyone knows that when I'm playing D&D, I am endlessly happy.)
Or spending time together on his birthday.
Or the concert, a few days after his birthday.
Or our basically daily B&N visits.
... I kind of freaked out going to B&N yesterday, because I wondered if he'd be there. Then I wondered what I'd do if he was. I think the appropriate action would be nothing.

I know he's hurting. Goddamn I know he's hurting, because I've been there. I've been exactly where he is, where it hurts to see him or talk to him or think about him because I know that, somewhere along the line, I fucked up; but I don't know if I can fully understand, because willingness to give up our friendship is a most absolute foreign concept to me.

I put friendship before all else, and I'm not willing to compromise it.
I guess I was right when I told him we were different people.

Whatever. Here's a poem by my favorite poet. The final two lines may be relevant, or may not.

Blank Joy

She who did not come, wasn't she determined
nonetheless to organize and decorate my heart?
If we had to exist to become the one we love,
what would the heart have to create?

Lovely joy left blank, perhaps you are
the center of all my labors and my loves.
If I've wept for you so much, it's because
I preferred you among so many outlined joys.