In the Ashes of the Phoenix

            According to mythology, the phoenix is a bird which perishes in flame, then is born again from his ashes.  Of course, those same myths also state that he lives five hundred years in-between, and has magical powers.  While I’m writing an analogy, the parallels can only stretch so far.

            As a consequence of living, or, more accurately, things I did while living, I, too, have burned my life to ashes.  And not for the first time, either.  I’ve pulled through to live again and hope there’s the chance to do so one more time.  Like the phoenix, I hope the ashes provide a place of rebirth.

            Little is known of what takes place within the ashes, between one life and the next.  That is my purpose for this journal.  Whether things go well for me, or they turn ugly, I want to record that journey between my last earthly life in the real world and the next.  It is part catharsis and part confessional.  I seek better resolution of myself, and a more complete picture may be revealed to others, beyond just the facts.

Introduction

“What makes a man who he is?  Is it the worst thing he’s ever done, or the best things he ever wanted to be?” spoken by narrator Dakota Fanning, in sci-fi series Taken

            When I began this journal, the purpose I had in mind was to explore these questions as they relate to myself.  So far, I feel a good effort has been made to examine both my light and dark sides, my hope and despair, my thoughts and my feelings.  As I continue to write, it is my hope to reveal the totality of what makes me who I am, and in the process, to make changes for good in my life.  I write this so the curious or concerned may know of me, and because I believe I may become a better person by revealing everything I can to someone, not leaving room for hypocrisy or lies.  The only exception I make is that all people and places mentioned remain anonymous, in order to protect them from any negative impacts which might result from mention or association with this journal.

“When I was a young man, I did something which was not just, and from it has sprung the misery of my life.  Do you think you can stop the consequences of a bad action, by doing good ones afterward?  I don’t.  I have been trying to stopper it down with good actions, ever since, but it goes on in widening circles.  It will not be stoppered.”  Book 4, Chapter 8 The Once and Future King, by T.H. White.

            I don’t consider myself as too selfish a person.  I like to help others out and try to do good when I can.  However, I lament my actions which affected others so and cost me so much.  I used to view good works as somehow cleansing me of the wrong and the consequences of the bad.  I followed that philosophy in the beginning to get involved in church activities before my arrest, and in all the effort I threw into my education.  I expected the good I was doing and had done before, both for others and for making improvements in my own life, would weigh in my favor against those consequences.  It didn’t.  It simply presented a dichotomy within myself, which Left me vulnerable to attack from all sides, and to charges of hypocrisy.  To try to stop the consequences was like trying to bail water out of a boat with a teaspoon.  In spite of my efforts at good actions, I eventually went under.

            To do something as a young man and then fixate on it for years also has its consequences.  It forms a template in the mind and in the habits, and the longer that template remains in place, the harder it is to move outside it or see beyond it.  Even after becoming a Christian, rather than submitting to the new template, I simply tried to overlay it on the existing one, being more comfortable with the familiar than with what I knew to be better.  I’ve had to learn in many a hard way, that just as the Bible tells us that the blood of bulls and sheep hasn’t the power to cleanse us from sin, only to cover it, so my own efforts to do good could, at best, only obscure the bad.  The misery has continued in widening circles because I was trying to do it all myself.  Only by yielding to God and the blood of Christ can I be cleansed from my sin and properly directed, and only by turning it all over to Him can I be pulled from my morass of misery.  Consequences remain and must be dealt with for past actions, because a man sows what he reaps, but at least the cycle may finally be put to an end.

“You know nothing but the truth and have no tenderness, thus you judge unjustly.”  – Aglaya Yepanchin to Prince Myshkin – The Idiot by Dostoyevsky

            Some reading this may choose to pass judgment immediately, with only a few facts to support that reasoning, and no further examination.  That is up to you and I have no resentment if that is your decision.  But in doing so, you miss much, ignoring all the facets but the face you see.  Through that lens, I now answer the first questions.

            What is the worst thing I’ve ever done?  In my youth, for a span of nearly ten years, when opportunity arose, I would follow young girls around and rub against them/grab them on the bottom and/or make lewd, masturbatory gestures in their presence.  It was sick, it was disgusting, it was perverted.  Why I did that is likely to be rooted in poor social skills, immaturity, and/or some sort of psycho-social disorder.  This, however, doesn’t excuse it.  I still had an impact on those girls, possibly affecting their confidence or their trust, at least for a time.  I thank God that I can honestly say my behavior never exceeded these bounds, never to include penetration or even any form of intimate skin to skin contact.  Regardless, though it was through weakness on my part, and a form of sexual addiction, my behavior was predatory and disgustingly wrong.  This behavior led me to a charge of sexual abuse, which cost me more than six years in prison.

            More recently is related behavior that landed me in my current predicament, the consequences of which were exacerbated by my previous trouble.  I spent long hours at my computer viewing pornographic and sexually provocative images and videos, and though much of it involved adults, some involved underage material.  This got traced to me, evidence of it was found on my computer, and I received multiple counts to be served consecutively.  I hate that I hadn’t fully outgrown my youthful perverted lusts and that in my own way I contributed to the exploitation of those girls.  I will likely be stuck doing my time till about the end of the decade.

            The best things I ever wanted to be include being a man with a college degree, a decent and fairly secure career, a house, and someone to share it with, as a husband and perhaps a father.  So far, I’ve only managed the degree, but I got off track on the rest.  Maybe some of those won’t be achieved due to the route I’ve taken.  But more than just achieving or accumulating things, the best things I hope to be are those which are according to God’s will for my life at this time.  What that may be, I don’t know, but I acknowledge that I am where I am because this is where God wants me to be at this time, and He’s shaping me for something better.  And I really don’t care if that sounds like pious claptrap to some people; it is the truth as I know it.

           

“America is the land of the second chance, and when the doors of the prison open, the path ahead should lead to a better life” – George W. Bush

            In the natural course of things, I should still have many years ahead of me.  Of course, I still have to deal with all the turmoils of this setting, as well as my own depression which encourages me to end things, but I still have the potential to be a productive and contributing member of society.  Though my writing may not always reflect it, I am striving to better myself and place myself into a position where I can lead that better life, and take that second chance to be a good man, who does good naturally because of what is being developed within.  I know that technically it’s more than a second chance, but consider Jesus’ answer to Peter when asked how often he should forgive his brother for sin done to him, Jesus said, “Until seventy times seven” (Mt. 18:22).  I repent of this sinful behavior, I seek all the help I can in remaining turned from it, and I ask forgiveness of everyone I’ve hurt.  I will use every chance given to move to that better life for myself and others.

            One thing I have going for me is that while I might rightly hate and be ashamed of those things which got me here, and even the person I was when I did them I know who I am today, and the better things I strive for.  I like that person.  I hope as many people as possible get to know this man and who I’m becoming.

                                                                                                4/30/12

12/20/11

            This is getting ridiculous.  It’s now over a week since we’ve been locked down and no end in sight, except for one word it might go through the New Year.  For the post part, I don’t object too bad, although my library books may be done by the weekend.  A bit more reading is available to me, plus TV, cards, and writing, so I won’t necessarily suffer.  But it would be nice to do chess and make right use of the microwave.

            The thing that’s got me stressed is hearing that about 27 people will soon be shipped out.  I’m programming, have a class, etc., but I also feel like that since things are going well and I’m about as comfortable as I can be in this situation, then I can only expect things to turn ugly.  Oh Lord, I fear what may come – the abuse, the fear, the posturing, the newness, the BS.  Right now, while I would welcome death, I’m not looking to take an active hand in it.  Should I be forced to move, I see the lure of the rope growing stronger.  Everyone dies and I know where I’m going, so why not if things get too bad.  Not that I’m looking to it right now, but it’s never off the table.  I just know I ask to maintain this stability at least through this program, so maybe I can be better armed in spirit, emotions, and purpose against what may come next.

            Tomorrow, I plan to do more Bible reading than I have in about a couple weeks.  I’ve finished books that were getting in the way of that, so I know there’s time on that front.  I will watch a movie at 10:00, but following that my first priority will be to pick up my OT reading.  No excuses.  I know I need to strengthen myself in the spirit, because I know that even if things stay well for awhile, my own strength is still not sufficient.  Surely I will need to call on greater strength should things go to shit.

            The other thing I need to begin is writing – other than this.  It may be that the stories I have in mind are too large to let me begin.  I know about where I want to go and how to do it, but I think the scope of it daunts me.  So, let me set up three small projects to begin.  1) Letter to nieces and nephews; 2) Character and setting development, establishing SE intro in larger planned work of the Plague; 3) Recall and redo Bigfoot short story.  Get these done over the next couple weeks working daily on them, at least a few minutes.  No need to carve out 5 hour blocks, because that sets up for failure.  Let me just write a few words at a time, and keep going if I’m inspired and driven for it.  Let the first draft flow, then only focus on thinking when it comes time to rewrite and fix it.  Don’t stress perfection.

            Dear Lord, I know what I plan and hope for.  I pray I might have the opportunity and direction to work on it.  I fear that I may be removed from this environment where I am just getting my feet set toward beginning to accomplish something.  Not only fear of being diverted from a purpose, but also for my and peace of mind.  I know you are with me in all things and you won’t give me more than I can bear.  But please wait to test me on that and give me the chance to center my focus on you.  Let me do the Bible studies and grow in fellowship accomplishing those things where I am.  I love you Lord and seek reasons to hope rather than despair.  Please don’t let me be led to despair.

12/21/11

            OK, so I didn’t get any writing done today.  I did get some apparently much needed sleep, so I’ll be more up for things tomorrow.  Still got the stress riding me and I should probably make a stronger effort to talk to psyche.  And I will probably feel better once I accomplish toward my goals.

            As of today, we have one year until the end of the Mayan calendar.  I’m more than ready if it’s the end and wouldn’t complain, though I know well enough that God’s plan is likely different and we won’t know the day.  Still, it wouldn’t hurt my feelings.

12/25/11

            So, this is Christmas.  We remain locked down and waiting for people to get shipped out, if that’s what we’re waiting on.  I’m still concerned about how the PTB intend things for me, although I’m working on my trust in God, that He won’t put me in a bad situation.  After all, I can view my current situation as an answer to prayer.

            I finally got a bit of writing started, but there’s still a lot yet to go.  It’s been a couple days and again, I think the big culprit may be the TV, coupled with fatigue.  I may plan to watch some tomorrow, but I do need to make sure I write and read my Bible.

            I’ve even failed to update this as things occur or come to mind.  I don’t exactly intend this as a daily log, but I should write when the occasion warrants it.

            We had actual snowfall a couple days ago and while there’s little remnants yet on the ground, we missed a little bit the white Christmas.

            I’m on my last library book.  I happily get to re-read “Down to a Sunless Sea.”  I always liked this book and some of its images and even with older eyes, it’s still good so far.  It was written in 1981, like “The Talisman,” so the flavor’s a bit different from today.  I really noticed that with King’s book when I reread and was taken with little things that probably would seem odd to write today.  The 12-year-old hitchhiked across the country, highly unusual to consider then, unthinkable and probably criminal today.  Of course, what strikes me is probably only due to my own unique perspective, but I suppose it’s realistic to detect changes in mores during my lifetime.

            I hope things get back to normal soon.  This was old a week ago.

12/27/11

            The news has been heavy with the story out of Stamford, CT, about the house fire that killed 5 people, including 3 little girls.  Very much a tragedy and sad when it happens.  But, I also find myself wondering what makes this a national news story?  Death, accidents, and tragedy happen every day, and each one impacts those around them.  Is it wrong to think every story should deserve such coverage?  What brings attention to this story?  Is it the people involved?  The income?  Proximity to New York?  I would never want to strip such an event down to a mere clinical assessment, but I do wonder what it is that brings certain local happenings to the national stage.  I might even try to analyze it if I had the current ability to work with it.  But never to forget the souls of those involved and hope to see a full life for everyone.

12/30/11

            I got to read again “Down to a Sunless Sea.”  I’d forgot some of the things that made the book special, as well as some of its flaws.  Some of the numbers and science was noticeably off, such that a semi-knowledgeable proof-reader should’ve caught it.  But the writing of survival, sacrifice, and heroism is such that it’s remained memorable and even brought some tears.  I was actually surprised to see some parts were as short as they were, since I remembered them so large.

            Also, they did their big move of people and I remain here, so my stress level is back down to normal.  I’m thankful I get to continue with the Crossings and hopefully get other things done.  Maybe people leaving means there’s jobs available.

            We’re off lockdown now, so hopefully a trip to the library will happen pretty quick.

1/2/12

            We’re at the start of a new year, but the concerns of the old year still remain.  The latest rumor I’ve heard is that the moves which recently occurred was only the start of churning things about, rather than just clearing a building for work.  This is a concern to me, since I know my mental health is improved with stability.  Although I know God will have me where He thinks is best according to His plan, I hope to remain here where I so far feel secure and blessed in how things are.  While it may be better for my ability to bear the burden to increase, rather than to simply have the burden decrease, I am in a place where I believe I can live, learn, and grow.  I feel my walk as a Christian and a writer improving and through Crossings, etc. I hope to improve as a man.

            I remain scared of what a move could mean.  Where I live, I don’t have to worry about my safety or having my possessions stolen.  I get along well enough with those in the pod, even if it’s my own company I prefer best.  Right now I’m not too worried about violence against me in this refuge and pray it can remain this way.  But I know that when conditions turn toward the hopeless is when I seek any way out.  My desire for an end to this has not waned.  I should even welcome death as a way out.  That, at least, holds no fear for me.  I know where I’m going and it happens to everyone as a natural part of life.  The inclination toward actively taking that step never completely goes away, though right now it’s at low ebb.  But to turn things for the worse would definitely have me seeking death as a viable option.

1/3/12

            It seems that I can get no peace in my spirit.  At the risk of sounding like a broken record, the talk about transport of another bunch of people away is causing me stress.  When I heard mention of it this morning, a flash of fear went through me, with pulse and blood pressure racing for higher numbers.  I know I don’t tend to respond well to change, especially when that change is imposed on me from without.  But, I seem to be in as good a situation as I can hope for, especially if I can get to work.  I know that God is in control of the current circumstances and He will be of whatever may come.  Yet I have no peace about it and I hear the call of the noose as a means to finding that peace.  Not that I’m not looking at everything else going on, or things I’ve set out to do (writing, etc.).  But change for me is only representing crisis or danger, rather than hope.

            I’ve been reading a book about a Christian in China who endured much for his faith.  He’s been persecuted, imprisoned, and horribly beaten.  Yet, he’s been instrumental in the house church movement.  He is a criminal in his homeland only because of Christ.  But although he’s had high and low points, even asking God for release from this life, he has managed to keep his faith, commitment, and honor to his purpose.  Never did he deny the Lord or compromise his principles.  Is it my character, comfort, or Western upbringing that makes me feel so much weaker?  Of course, to be reviled and persecuted for faith is a blessing, but there is no glory or honor in suffering because of wrongdoing.  I’d let myself wander so far from God’s plan for me and from fellowship with Him, that He considered such corrective procedures necessary for me.  Was it for the saving of my soul?  No, His grace has covered me since I called on Him and accepted Him as my savior.  I know salvation doesn’t depend on works.  But I violated God’s principles and His discipline comes to put me back on the right path.

            What purpose does He still have for me?  I wish I knew.  I think I would find it easier to endure if I knew where all this was leading.  He wants me to become a better man and a better reflection of Him.  But other than that, I would like to know where I fit in His plan, or to simply be taken home to Him.  I know the thought is there to take that action myself.  No matter what I do, I know that I won’t succeed in it unless it is God’s will.  So, if I were to be the agent of the end of my life, would that not be because God had allowed it?

            I seem to be more morbid than usual today.  Part of that I know is related to my stress and fear.  Part also is that I get called for blood work today, nothing critical in itself, but last time it occurred, I was shipped out right after the results.  And so the circle closes.

            Enough of that for now.  I hope to speak with [redacted] at some point and I hope to be prepared when that happens.  For today, I plan to finish a segment of my writing and the middle third of the novel I’m reading.  Other reading that was a goal to complete today in books, magazine, and Bible has been completed so that need not distract me.  I may take time to visit the library and plan to go to the chapel this evening.  No writing class this week.  I’m also seeing as a weakness in myself that in setting out to accomplish things, I don’t set sufficient time aside for prayer and fellowship with God.  When the intent is there, it is too often shifted from due to a program I’ve looked forward to, or fatigue leading me to sleep.

1/4/12

            So far this day, I’ve only managed to go question about classes.  Given available spots, it doesn’t look highly likely.  I meant to go talk to the psych, but prayer led to relaxation let to sleep.  I need to try after lunch and will update if anything happens.  I also have writing to accomplish this afternoon.

            Talk is still all about people getting shipped out and I don’t feel prepared if it’s me.  My chronic desire for death and going home to the Lord had been low enough to preclude my taking an active hand.  Fear and danger ramp that up and both seem to be increasing lately.

            I have writing to do this afternoon and have specific manageable projects figured for the next few days, so hopefully I’ll accomplish something.

            There are some things I thought to write on which led me to begin this journal.  Those things have lost the sharpness of the moment, but I still think I’ll write on them here so they’re recorded in some fashion, beginning with this one:

            In a collection of short stories by Ray Bradbury was one entitled “The Blue Bottle.”  The setting was a Mars that we now know could never be.  The blue bottle being searched for functioned something like a genie’s lamp, in that when you opened it, you would receive the thing you truly most desire, even if that desire is something you’re not consciously aware of.  One man getting hold of it simply felt the bottle sloshing around, so he could pour out some damn fine bourbon.  But there was a danger in finding this bottle, too, because a good many of those who found it ended up dead.  But the story goes on to express that given the nature of man, these folks may have received that which they most desired.  It postulated that within a majority of people lies a secret desire, a subliminal urge, that through some private guilt they seek to find death.  Perhaps it’s not just death they seek, but really an end to the troubles of life.  An end to doubt, fear, loneliness, helplessness, frustration, shame, despair, torture, monotony, want, toil, shortcomings.  Everything.

            So often, I wish I could find that blue bottle.

            No way to talk to psych today.  She’s booked.  Not that talking to her is any substitute for prayer.  That is ongoing and I continue to seek an outcome I can live with.

1/6/12

            Yesterday I did no writing.  I absolutely was not up for it.  I’m quite tired today, but hope to get that important letter finished.

            I’m still here, but my stress level was jacked way up.  In spite of that, although I’d written a note to speak with the psych, I didn’t deliver it.  I had been thinking of times I’d spoken, but should have kept my mouth shut.  I don’t actually know if this is one of those times, but I felt greater inclination toward prayer than talk.  Don’t know yet if this day is different.

            I had included sunflower seeds on my canteen sheet because I wanted the option they provide available.  They were out.  I have to think about what this may mean.

1/8/12

            It turns out I had no need to request a psych meeting.  I received an appointment slip Friday, apparently as a matter of course.  This does little to allay my stress levels, since I feel precedent for meeting, then transport.  Perhaps I can learn something tomorrow and hopefully I’ll feel better.

            It’s been a few days since I got any writing done.  This was largely due to the book  I was reading taking longer than anticipated.  Reading is not actually the higher priority, but finishing in a timely manner is.  There’s still time today, but two movies are to be shown, plus the football.  Tomorrow for sure, writing is my highest priority, though I still need to make that appointment.

            I may have something to say here tomorrow.  I hope the word will be that I remain here, adding to my foundation and growth.  I have the Crossings program, writing class, chapel and Bible study activities.  When people leave, jobs should open up.  God help me to get through this time and walk well in His way, with a will for me I’m able to accept.

Undated

            According to the best data interpreted by physicists, astronomers, and other scientists, the universe is 13.7 billion years old.  The best that can be expected for a human lifetime is around 100 years.  Taking each to their nearest order of magnitude (10² and 10¹⁰), the universe is over 100 million times older than I will ever be.

            So, it’s taken me a lifetime to get my head around the immense age of the universe (let alone the age of Earth and geologic ages).  The sun, being around half its life spent had another 5 billion years to go (5 x 10⁹).  Now, the best evidence indicates the universe is expanding, but rather than reaching a maximum size before reversing direction for a collapse, it will continue to expand at an increasing rate, due to dark energy.  This means that entropy will increasingly dominate as the universe continues to cool – stars die, evaporation happens, and the vacuum of space becomes more perfect.

            The slowest burning and longest lived stars are the red dwarfs, but the last of them is expected to burn out in 100 trillion years (10¹⁴).  This is 10,000 times longer than the current age of the universe.  My mind slips away from being able to grasp such a timeframe.  But then the black holes will still exist, although through quantum effects, they will slowly dissolve away.  A black hole with the mass of the sun would evaporate in 10⁶⁶ years, while one massing a galactic cluster evaporates in 10¹¹⁷ years.  At this point, the universe will once again be void of energy and light.  The universe will be a trillion trillion trillion trillion trillion trillion trillion trillion trillion times older than it is now.  To consider the very concept taxes my brain, leaves me in awe, mingled with despair.  My mind slips off the edges of such scale and I feel that if I did fully grasp it, it would be too much for me, causing me to shut down, perhaps become catatonic.

            Yet the scale grows bigger.  Even so vast a time as 10¹¹⁷ years becomes less than a drop in the bucket of eternity.  This is the time that we are to spend with God (or the other place for those who haven’t accepted His gift of salvation).  I look at that with my eyes of flesh and even knowing the glory and perfection we will enjoy, in ourselves and our environment, I cannot conceive of remaining there forever, or even desiring to.  My life in the spirit may remove such doubts and negative considerations, though I lack the power to imagine how.

            Such time scales, especially when taken with the infinitude of space, causes me to view my own existence as utterly insignificant in the grand scheme.  Actually, even the echoes of the greatest figures in history also have zero significance.  Yet God still thought enough of each one of us to send His son to pay the penalty for our sins, so we might spend that eternity with him.  I cannot understand, although I want to.  My despair lies in contemplating the  scale of it all, vast beyond imagining.  Maybe when I do understand, I will learn that time is not what I perceive it to be.  Could it be something that is not so unbearable to consider?  Perhaps it’s only an artifact of this universe we live in.  Will that make it less difficult to bear?  Will living daily in the presence of God ever get old?  Will there be opportunities for adventure that I feel are lacking?  Will I be able to serve productively eternally and be satisfied with it?  When I lay this body of flesh aside and go in the spirit to my Lord and Savior, will such questions or concerns remain valid?  What questions will be valid then?

1/11/12

            So, I haven’t written for a few days, not really for lack of anything to say.  I did talk to the psych on Monday and had a decent dialogue.  Though I was unable to get anything definitive out of her (and I don’t believe she knew more than she was telling on this), it seems my being in the Crossings program may help provide a measure of security for me.  This is not for sure, but it has helped some to settle my mind.

            The rest of that day had some disappointment with a food order not being filled, but that turned out to be a good thing.  The Crossings graduation was that night, which included a bunch of junk to munch on.  I was also glad to get that event out of the way, since now it won’t interrupt the last episodes of “Chuck.”

            Yesterday had it’s own yippie-ki-yay start.  I’d planned to stay sleeping and skipped medline, only to be got up and called to medical.  The checking of the vitals went quick, but then I had to wait two more hours to see the doctor for the routine stuff they do.  I later went to my writing class (decent), but never got back to sleep or my Bible reading for the day done.  Knowing I was tired and how I get when I’m like that, I decided to rest instead of going to chapel last night.  Of course, while I can claim that not wanting to be a cranky SOB to people was my reason, it did get backed up by my desire to see a movie.  Perhaps poor rationale, but I did enjoy the movie.

            This morning, I mostly rested and I’m feeling a bit better.  Most of my productive activity has been in chess and reading.  I should finish my current book and tomorrow I hope get going on a new writing idea which I’d like to flesh out on paper.

1/20/12

            I sure didn’t mean to go so long without writing anything.  Writing for class, reading, sleep, chess, television, and other distractions kept me away from this.  Actually, some of what I got done was in a productive vein, so I don’t feel too apologetic about it.

            Around here it’s been mostly the same old stuff.  I got a good story written for my class, but I’ve got a couple more to write that I’ve been too occupied to get to.  So, I may have to cut this short today, even though I’ve got something significant to talk about.

            I was actually going to write a couple days ago, since it was the birthday of S. and she was on my mind as a result.  Actually, there hasn’t been a day without her on my mind.  If the day would come that I realized I hadn’t thought about her, that would be a sad day indeed.  I would likely shed some tears if that were to happen.  She was one of my best friends ever, and probably my greatest companion.  I came to love her through the slow development of our relationship.  I can’t say courtship because things never actually went that direction, but it seems we both know it could have.  We were each other’s regular companion for dinner, movies, trips to the coast, or just hanging out.  She became a regular fixture in my life and I could relate well with her.  She is very attractive and capable.  Our sense of humor and sensibilities meshed well.  She could appreciate a well timed fart, or smile and roll her eyes at my bad jokes, often double-entendre.  Our quirks kept each other entertained, too.  I’d laugh at her Ugli dolls and she became accustomed to my sneezes, so would laugh when she saw other people react.  I don’t know where things would’ve developed.  I chose not to press for more than the good friendship we had, because we both knew I was leaving, school was enough to worry about without complicating things further, and she’d mentioned before that a 15 year age gap seemed a bit much on the face.  That last bit became less of a concern though and if I’d made it back that summer, I would have taken a chance.  I think I could’ve at least brought it up without ruining a perfectly good friendship.

            Since it’s been over a year since I’d last heard from her, I thought she was out of my life for good.  But on her birthday, a Christmas card from her finally caught up with me.  I was stunned and her note inside mentions resuming contact.  I’ve been preoccupied with what to say back.  It won’t be a lot, because if I let myself ramble, I could make her uncomfortable.  But I will let her know how glad I am to hear from her.  I love her on many levels and am thankful I may still have a place in her life.

1/23/12

            The last several days just haven’t been as productive as I would’ve liked.  It’s not all fatigue, laziness, or whatever.  I can blame movies in part and the football games for yesterday.  They were both good games, except for the outcome.  Now I have no one to root for in the Super Bowl.

            I did get my letter to S written, which I kept short.  I knew that if I said a lot, especially after so long, I’d just ramble and say something stupid, embarrassing, or uncomfortable.  There’s this tenuous tie to her being back in touch with me and the last thing I’d want to do is drive her off.  So, I hope she’s doing well and I hear news of her life soon.

            Since I was preoccupied by correspondence, I didn’t get a couple short stories fleshed out on paper.  The best I managed was what might be termed a couple short essays.  Well, class is tomorrow and I’ll carry on from there.

            I believe Crossings starts back up again tonight.  There’s only two left in my group, so we’ll see how that goes and what happens next, now that my evening routine starts again.