This blog is my companion

I've been thinking a lot more about J again. For a week or two, I'll feel strong, like I am making progress. Then I am reminded, often by a memory at first, but more when I catch myself fantasizing about interractions I'd like to have, practicing conversations, etc that won't happen. Acceptance is the cold, cold, empty realization that that fantasy will never materialize. At this point, I either laugh, glower, or stare blankly into nowhere. Recently, its reduced me to tears, again. Like back in Dec/January. This time, however, its deeper, yet more brief. I hope she is safe.

I don't understand anything anymore. I listen to a lot of Sade. And Bob. I watched the Lakers game half-assed, as it was for a Finals game. As much as I'd love for them to win it all, it'll be over tomorrow night in Boston. Next year, Kobe.
My interest in BM is waning, mainly out of fear. Fear that I won't be able to summon the resources to be self-reliant. I have about a month (June-July) to acquire gear, another month to save money for September, as I'll be gone for half of August. Doable, but not yet figured out.
Saw Jeff tonight, went okay, felt squirrelly. Hadn't seen him in a month, ranted a bit, but more just let myself surrender to whatever was going on in the room at the time. Admitted what I was feeling when, etc, tried to stay self-aware.


Realized recently that I use this blog as an outlet for highly personal shit now. When I was with J, I never felt a compulsion to spew like this here (my journal, sure, and I still write obsessively there as well, but more about boring shit like budgets, hemmorhoids, and t0-do lists.). I need to write/express with the intention behind it that it is being received. Something primal seems present in that statement, something about seeding, maybe not sure.
I console myself that no one reads it anyway, so its really just for me, but the fact that it is in the public domain means it could be consumed, and I'd prefer to get baked, rant on my blog than sit at a bar and rant at a bartender. This is cheaper, albeit decidedly less social. Likely antisocial.