He war

I went to bed last night at 8 just because I couldn't deal with the world anymore. I don't really want to deal with this particular reality anymore.

I'd like to be indignant and say that I've got better things to do than wait around all afternoon for a phone call that I don't want to pick up, but I don't.

I don't want to do this, any of this.

And the only person I want to talk to about this, I can't.

Every song brings me back to her. Every song brings me back to what we were, what we were going to be. I need some memories of a good future. I need to remember the road trips we took together two years from now, the kayak tours of Puget Sound next summer. Or the apartment I had by myself, the work I loved, the meaningful life I lived a few years down the road. Something, just give me something.

I heard a program on the radio yesterday that considered the influence spirituality has in making people feel like their lives have meaning, and one of the guests said something like, "You can be a spiritual person and be in the wrong place -- that is, feeling like your life has no meaning -- just as you can be a non-spiritual person in the right place and have your life filled with importance and meaningful actions."

I just don't see that my life has any particular significance. I mean, if I disappeared off the face of the earth this morning, what would happen? Not much. All the things that bother me would work themselves out. A few friends and family would mourn and get on with their lives. But otherwise, nothing. My work isn't particularly meaningful or valuable, my personal life is less than satisfying -- and really, marked by more unhappiness and frustration than joy -- and I don't even have any goals I'm working toward.

I feel like I've wasted all this time.

I'd hoped to be a few months into a fresh start by now, but that's not happening anytime soon. I'm not sure if I can get a fresh start anymore. There's a part of me that wants to say, "Fine, if you want to have a baby then go have a baby, but if it's going to happen against my will, then don't dare ask anything of me." That part is there, but I don't want to listen to it.

Part of me still thinks that there might be an opportunity for a new life tied up in having a child and getting back together with G. But in some respects that's also the antithesis of the life I wanted to live for the next few years. The last thing I wanted to do was get tied down by anything, and there's nothing that ties more than a child.

I don't fucking know.

...and this isn't what I wanted to say. I don't even know what I wanted to say, but it's not this. I'm supposed to be strong right now so I can support the people I love, but really, right now there's no strength left and I just don't want to care so damn much.

I fucking hate what this has all become. I fucking hate what my life has un-become.

...

I dreamed last night that I was loading an oil-covered tanker truck onto a ship for transport across a shallow grey sea. I had to drive the truck off the edge of the dock and onto small yellow floats that fit under each tire, and I was sure that at any moment the truck would slip and go to the bottom with me in it. After a moment, we turned the truck so it was parallel to the dock and started to secure it with ropes, but the next time I looked it had turned into a grey horse. Its halter was coming undone and my father was there, yelling to tie the ropes off shorter but we couldn't because they were twisted and knotted on themselves.

Take the guitar player for a ride
he ain't never been satisfied
he thinks he owes some kind of debt
be years before he gets over it
--W