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2001-07-13 - 5:44 p.m.

There seems to be an emotional saturation point, where I have healed as much as I can, and that no amount of good, or perfect days, or anything can make me heal any faster.

I am still healing. I'm getting better, but I'm still, still still healing.

----no reason----

i'd sit there on our couch, my hair uncombed,
in the same grey shorts, in the same blue sweater.
the ones you hated so much.
i'd sit there because you weren't coming back, and i had no reason to be ready for you.

i'd look through the bills, and the pile of change from each trip out the front door. i'd see my things, my mess, my dishes and dirt.
i'd look through those things, my things, because you'd taken yours weeks before.

i'd lay on the floor of the shower, water on my back, letting the pounding , the heat, the moaning pipes cover us, the emptiness and me.


Tonight I am going to try to let her in, just a little bit more...I love her more each day I'm with her. I want her to see everything, and to love who I am, not just who I am to her.

I'll also probably drink alot.

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35 Years old. 1971.
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215 pounds of boy
dad. married father.
love, big fan of/in
day: sr proj manager
night: pro wrestler (grr)

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