Today at work went better than yesterday. So far I haven’t spent as much time in my attic or roof as I did yesterday either. It’s snowy, so I probably won’t be going on the roof at all.

“Look ye, carpenter, I dare say thou callest thyself a right good workmanlike workman, eh? Well then, will it speak thoroughly well for thy work, if, when I come to mount this leg thou makest, I shall nevertheless feel another leg in the same identical place with it; that is, carpenter, my old lost leg; the flesh and blood one, I mean. Canst thou not drive that old Adam away?”
“Truly, sir, I begin to understand somewhat now. Yes, I have heard something curious on that score, sir; how that a dismasted man never entirely loses the feeling of his old spar, but it will still be pricking him at times. May I humbly ask if it really be so, sir?”

That’s me… An amputee. I’ve cut away something that pains me and poisons me in the hopes that I’ll save the rest of myself. But it still pricks me. I can still feel it. I was explaining my choice, just yesterday, to someone and I said, “I wish I was like that high school ass that tells the girl that she can go F herself and she means nothing to him… I don’t know if that guy really means it or not… But I’m not that guy. I still love, I still care, I still worry. I wish I had a knife long enough to dig that out of me. What I’ve got now is a love that still permeates every thought throughout my day, a picture, and a mind full of memories of good times and bad times and everything that falls between. I find both contentment in that and discontentment… If a man has gangrene and needs to have the arm sawed off, does he find himself wishing he had that poison arm back? What sort of thing keeps me wanting that misery?

Already someone has asked “What now?”… You know the question, who are you going to date next? That’s the wrong question. I don’t have some other person lined up. Here, reader, let me tell you something. In every relationship, especially the early stages of it, the guy, and for all I know the girl too, will examine many other females that come his way… I don’t mean just look, I mean consider “Is this one better than the one I have now,”. A girl might read this and think “What a bunch of jerks these guys are!”, but look at this from another angle. This is good for the relationship. I’ll explain how. From the initial perspective, if he determines that someone else is “better” and he leaves his girl for pursuit of the new one, than that’s for the best, the girl shouldn’t have had him around if he’s such a jumpy fellow that can’t find commitment, or maybe things just weren’t right. The second perspective, is that if he spends so much time looking and can’t find someone “better”, this cements the relationship, making it stronger.

My “better” never showed up in the course of the time with Katie. I spent some time in the company of new people last night after church. These handful of people held not “better”, and only a couple that I would even think of calling “equal”. So the answer to the question of who I’m dating next? I’d put my money on no one. I have a love that permeates every thought in my day, a picture, and a handful of memories.

The phone rang and rang and rang this morning. She called me at work too. It rang last night. I don’t know what it is exactly… Does she want to tell me she misspoke? Or that I misheard? Or to apologize? I don’t know. I have no idea. For all I know I have pages of text from her going to my instant messenger, but I’m not looking. I don’t really even remember where, if anywhere, her e-mails are being routed to…

I don’t want to be miserable. I don’t want to have the relationship that I have had for so long. And if you haven’t been paying attention I’ll say it again: I’m to blame too. I’ve talked to a couple of people who have said things to me about her… Things that I wouldn’t go so far as to say “Bad”, but certainly a negative tone about her. I told them to shut it. I still love her. I still love her.

Sometimes I think if she’d just come home… Come back to Zanesville, things would be ok… But I don’t know if that’s true. And, of course, that’d be bad for her. I’m a pessimist, but that single thing is probably the only area that I ever feel optimistic about. She’d come home, we’d be a happy little family, and everything would be good. But I know this is not true and not going to happen. What sort of rant would I go on now to give credence to me point? It doesn’t matter, who really cares? I’ve sawed off a piece of me and I feel empty. If I picked up that piece and tried putting it back, where would I be? Back to wanting to saw it off again.

I wanted my face to be cleaned, first it was a warm cloth, and than a splash of acid in the face. I’ve never ever felt so shot down, I’ve never felt such an inconsiderate blast to my feelings in only two words. I don’t know what I’m going to even try to do with my feelings, reader… It’s just if I ever ever ever feel like letting go and moving on of the feelings, this was certainly the last time I’ll have a relationship where I feel like I’m running a kindergarten. Have a bit of a bad day and feel like lashing out? Bye. I say something challenging about the relationship and you last out? Bye. I don’t know what it is to be a “man”, but I’m a grown up. I expect to be treated like one. Am I ever immature? Yeah. I am. Everyday I do something immature, and sometimes a handful of things. If I’m someone that you love, treat me at least like a grown up if not a loved one… All the time.

I don’t even know what time it is now. I’ve got to get back out to OUZ before their offices close.