"I've thought myself out of happiness one million times, but never once into it."

-- Jonathan Safran Foer

Oh hey, good-feeling-that-things-will-just-work-out-and-strange-contentment...yeah, sure, see you next time. Let's hang out again soon, yeah?

On the plus side, these once-brief periods of Things Will be Good are getting longer. I was talking with my friend Aaron last night, and the whole fucked-up view of sex and intimacy and commitment I now have post-Fin, and I think it's interesting what he said: "It seems like the Fin situation almost changed bits of you for the worse. It seems like that now, for you, sex is commitment and commitment is...god-knows-what."

"Sometimes I can hear my bones straining under the weight of all the lives I'm not living." -- JSF

Letting go should not be this difficult. I barely even know what I'm doing anymore, or what I'm talking about. Part of me wants to self-destruct and bleed, get drunk as fuck, wander around uptown Saint John at 2 in the morning, not entirely sure what's going on. I feel like at least then my outside could match the inside that still creeps in sometimes.

"I feel too much. That's what's going on." "Do you think one can feel too much? Or just feel the wrong ways? "My insides don't match up with my outsides." "Do anyone's inside and outsides match up?" "I don't know. I'm only me." "Maybe that's what a person's personality is: the difference between the inside and the outside." "But it's worse for me." "I wonder if everyone thinks it's worse for him." "Probably. But it really is worse for me." -- JSF

"There were things I wanted to tell him. But I knew they would hurt him, so I buried them, and let them hurt me." -- see above

I think I need to read Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close.