The Death March

I have no idea if you even check this anymore, now that you've lost your password and all. I do, still, obsessively. I'm just that way.

Your friend's comment about your walks being like the Bataan Death March really amused me, especially considering our surroundings.

Sometimes, in that place, it's like time stops, and I know there are still text messages and the occasional other intrusion, but that place doesn't seem like reality. It is an escape, I know.

I guess maybe we don't have a future in the traditional sense. I guess where we are is all we'll ever be. Maybe it's unavoidable, or fate, or some other philosophical BS. I don't know.

I stay angry at myself these days, and I think that's what you've been picking up on. I'm angry because I refuse to deal with difficult things. I make excuses like, well, lack of time, or the consequences being too difficult, or not wanting to ruin everyone's lives.

As I've said before, I have these brief moments of clarity when I see what I believe is going to come to pass. Sometimes, these thoughts are seemingly overly negative, even if they are spot-on more often than not.

I see us trying to be true to our commitments and us not being happy about it. I see something catastrophic happening before we ever have the courage to be happy, and I'm not implying a future for us in the place of our other relationships. No, I do not read palms or tea leaves on the side. ;)

I don't know what you'll ever want from me, and that bothers me less than maybe it should. I meant what I said today: you really underestimate your place in my life. That place is reserved, whether you want it to be or not, whether it can ever come to fruition or not.

I love you, even if I shouldn't. I like you because you are immensely likable. I want to be around you. I enjoy you.

That's enough, I guess.

Autumn Begins

I get a little anxious in the spring and in the fall. It's that whole changing seasons and transitions thing. Maybe it's the caveman part of my brain.

I so desperately want to see you and spend time with you, just us, alone. Maybe it's an escape from reality I want, I don't know.

It's been a year and a half of this. It seems more and more like a reality unto itself. Maybe I should call it my never ending lameness? Ha. Maybe so. Or maybe we can call it being patient with our lives. I hope it's just that. Nuclear options are scary.

Well, maybe one day soon you'll find your password. Or maybe a new identity. Or we'll get caught and publicly branded with a scarlet A.

Deep crimson is a good fall color, anyway.