Where does one go from here?

I'm always nostalgic and reflective at night. I'm not sure why. Maybe it's because I'm tired. I get sad when I get tired. I know, I'm strange.

I was going through all the links in my favourites to see how many don't work anymore. Sometimes I think I'm stupid for all the links I keep. I find people on the internet that I knew in highschool or university and I see how great they are doing in their lives now and I realize what a failure I am in life. People have become Doctors, Veteranarians, Teachers, Nurses and world travellers.

I'm a nobody. I've done nothing of importance. I've done nothing that is impressive or worthy of note. I'll never be a doctor or a nurse. I'm not cut out for those kinds of jobs but I just wish that I had something to be proud of.

With some of my friends I look at them and I think "I can't believe you are where you are." Some of them I honestly never believed they would be in the situations they are in. A lot of the time I can't believe some of the stuff I've witnessed. Things that should only ever occur on soap operas. But unfortunately for me they are real. The sad thing is none of them are things I've done, yet I feel the weight of these things all the same. I think that somehow, I'm less of a person for being a witness to them. That somehow I'm tainted by them even though they aren't my actions. I feel used and broken.

Who wants something that is used and broken. No one is the simple answer. Everyone is always looking for bright and shiny and brand new. No one wants anything lived in. Nobody cares for that kind of character anymore. It always has to be better and newer otherwise it's nothing.

I miss so many things. I miss my friends the way they were before life ruined them. Don't get me wrong, they were never perfect or innocent. Now I know them too well and I see through the illusions they create to look better. I see through the acts and the games. I see through the fear that they hide as if by that ability they are superior. I hate that they make me feel inferior by this. They brush me off because I openly talk about what we all fear. They think by hiding it that makes them stronger than me and therefore more superior to me who admits to them all.

I think I've learned that hiding fear isn't a sign of strength but one of weakness. I know all their bad habits and less beautiful characteristics and they certainly know mine. It is definitely a matter of sitting too close to the play. "Don't sit too close to the play. It ruins the illusion"

I'm not sure if that means I loved the illusion instead of the person or not. But some things are getting harder to live with now that I'm close enough to see them exist.

I miss Russ. I miss having that friend to confide in whom always understood. Maybe it's just because we never met face to face. Perhaps if we had we would not have remained friends. Then again I suppose we aren't anymore anyway. I wrote him an email a while ago and I never heard back.

It wasn't too long ago I thought he was gone forever and he suddenly reappeared in my life again, albeit briefly. But he quickly stepped out again and I think this time that's it. There is always a moment with a person who is important to you where you just know that things are over, that they are gone from your life for good.

"Almost all relationships begin, and most of them continue as forms of mutual exploration, a mental or physical barter, to be terminated when one or both parties run out of goods." ~ W.H. Auden I guess I ran out of goods. There was nothing I could offer that he needs. That's the way life works I know. I've rode through this cycle many times before.

At one time he was my knight in shining armour. He saved me from so many things. I don't even think he knew it. But the time for that is past. The end of a book is always a sad thing, especially for one who horribly detests endings. Losing a friend is devestating for me. I guess I should take comfort in knowing he's married and completely blissfully happy. He found what he wanted in life. And though an ending, it can never be an unhappy one.

I hope that one day I'll be walking through a bookstore and see his first novel. I hope he never gives up on that dream to be a writer. I know he'd make a good one.

I just wish that all these wonderful twists of fate would turn into something real that sticks around. So for once when I get that feeling of something clicking it won't all evapourate in the next second. I'm completely exhausted of good-byes.