although i have rather small feet, and their shoes may not fit--i'd make a lot of noise clomping down that dusty road

i was going to whine yesterday about how sick i was. about how on top of a blocked up sinus cavity, the mother of all muscle cramps was causing me to twist and thrash, curled up in a fetal position and biting my bedsheets. it did hurt quite a bit.

but by the time i mustered enough courage to put myself in a vertical and upright walking position, i felt better, and then heard the news. 

oh sure, i am shocked, and it is a grievous loss to his family and those who knew him. but to be honest, he was one man. i kind of wondered myself how he was staying alive, due to all he was doing. one man in the music industry, who happens to still have the number one selling album in the world. rest in peace, though; i will not keep that from you. the same to the lovely lady who lost a long struggle.

..........

i don't know if you still read this, and i don't care if you do. (scratch that, why would i write the following otherwise? salve for my soul...)

the way we burned our bridge wasn't the way i intended, if i at all intended to do so. in all honesty, it probably would have happened: emotions calling shotgun on this ride, i wouldn't have felt comfortable. and, perhaps, circumstances alluding to our physical locations at the time prevented you from letting me know in a personal, face to face (or in my case, face to downward glancing eyes) sort of manner.

did i not tell you how i felt before that monday? had i not confided in you almost every bit of emotion felt? how i still clung to the idea of him like i would the very edge of a precipice over the gaping mouth of a canyon, white waters raging below? how it didn't seem like i was ever going to let go, but i knew i'd never pull myself up over the edge to solid, dusty earth again? and how there was another that i didn't want to shun, but knew i should?

i know you must have adopted a "now-or-never" attitude and held it closely in a tight embrace, not wanting to let go for fear of a runaway situation. but before you deem yourself the tragic, hopeless romantic once again, like i'm sure you have to any person you trusted this to, think of how i felt. think of what i was already going through. and think of her! whatever glimmer of a chance you might have had faded and died out due to the fact that you went through someone else! i thought it was a joke when she first told me--it wasn't like you to do such a thing. it was a bit cowardly to do so.

all but two are taken care of. one i'm not worried about, due to my thought that it doesn't exist anymore. the other, i'm stuck. i'm stuck with messaging, and i'm stuck with calling, and none of it is personal; none of it is face to face, forcing courage into my veins through a syringe, which will have to cause my hide to thicken, else i'll melt the moment i shut the car door and think that no one is looking--mind you, there isn't a lot can break me down completely, but there are some things where it only takes one trip over the wire. 

maybe i'll wait until next week...it's not as though getting this over and done with will allieviate any pain. oh and i know it sounds like i'm taking the role of a victim to a melodramatic level, but it will hurt. i can't shrug it off, like the male gender seems to do so easily for the most part, and act like the dust will settle and be swept away (clean concrete! ha). dust never settles completely. never. at least, not immediately. i have played the opposite role one too many times before this, so i can easily walk a mile, a hundred, in their shoes. (according to matt b, i'll need a pair of green gloves for this one.)

new bangs, and i get sick. new dance moves, and i get a bruise. new deaths, and i get to play heartbreaker. sounds like a treat.

-d