Edgy today. And feeling empty. The hormones are also in play, and I just wish I had someone to be with. I have pangs of sadness when I think of Mr. W. Of course it's no help that I find myself gazing forlornly at that ocean picture of him; I installed it on my PC to sneak looks at it, and even put it in my phone. I'll call it desensitizing therapy: look at it and just tell myself to get over it. Pathetic, sure.

Sigh.

Such a loser, right? Even if we somehow started all over again, it'd still be the same situation. Guaranteed that the first peep outta me, no matter what the reason, I'd be abandoned all over again. There'd be no more trust possible.

IT WAS NEVER GOING TO GET BETTER.

I probably will make that stupid trip out to see him - just find a day to do it. Get it over with, make that last gesture and ...what's the thing to call it... start fresh. Or just ball up in a knot for a few more years. Life as a defective old maid.

Started to drift into chat rooms to just watch other people flirt: I have no identity, just a fragment of what I had listed before. I'm worse than rusty: coming back from the dead as I am so to speak, I'm a ghost. I linger about, looking and just being a mass of mute yearning to find someone who won't be a cruel stranger... A few people message me, but I haven't anything to say to them. "Can you be as good as my Mr. W.?" is unsaid, and they all have no idea that's what they came across in me. I'll likely lean on the 6-month mark to change and activate a profile. I don't know if it'll do any good or it may still be too soon. With Mr. P. it took over a year and a half to just not feel the pain anymore, and that was under lousy cirumstances to boot. This was nine months of experience for me...why am I supposed to be able to just stop? I didn't stop caring. Like Thomas Covenant I was true. See how much that gets you.

No good deed goes unpunished.