It’s funny, because with all my “friends” 350 miles away, and with Sarah usually about 20 feet away or more at all times, I am completely alone, and I don’t necessarily feel bad about it. I feel more alone right now than I have in the last three months. It’s not all bad, though, it just takes some acclimation to being all alone inside my own head. That, specifically, sucks right now. I don’t have anyone to talk to. Sarah is the person I talk to about my feelings, but my feelings are about Sarah, and now my feelings are about the fact that I can’t seem to talk about my feelings, or anything at all. There is no comfort here, no physical contact, no conversation.

I didn’t expect this. I know that in the last month “things have changed” but I didn’t expect to be a stranger in her house. Her bed isn’t big enough for the two of us, it’s a twin, and she’s in pain from her condition so it makes lying in certain positions difficult. (These happen to be all the positions that involve us touching each other. At all. Ever. Even the hugs make me feel like I am stealing something from her that she is not willing to give up.)

I slept on the couch in the living room last night, and I can’t say that I didn’t entirely feel like I ventured into her house as an unwelcome guest who’s been relegated to the opposite side of the house. I can’t say that I didn’t sob, briefly, tearlessly, after hours of reaffirming, repeatedly, the fact that we are not close to each other. It doesn’t make me much of a man, I guess, to admit to that, but I came here to be close to her, and I am anything but. As of right now I’m not even sure why I am here. It feels like I walked into the wrong house.

I don’t know what’s in her head. She says she’s just acting strange, which was a different answer than I expected (I expected: “i’m in pain,” which I can’t deny and comes laden with explanation) and leaves me wondering what she’s not telling me. I can think of a few reasons that she is acting the way she is and they are all ugly and painful and make me furrow my brow and fight the urge to cry, again, briefly, tearlessly. Instead I just smoke a cigarette and listen to Local H through my phone and try to be strong.

But, I am not strong. What am I supposed to do but feel defeated? I came here with a warning I didn’t heed. It’s my fault, really, and I don’t seem to have the strength or ability to fight it. What am I supposed to do? Force her to want to be close to me? How can I even do that? My skin is clear, my hair is awesome, I’m attractive and intelligent, I’m here… What else can I do?

I’m supposed to take her to meet some girl in one of her statistics class for the first time. I’m supposed to take her there and drop her off, then come back here and shower and, uh, twiddle my thumbs for a few hours? I don’t… whatever.

Looks like I am going to spend this week getting used to being completely alone (a benefit, if there ever was one, to driving 400 miles to spend time with a girl you love), reading through The Secret History (which is turning painful, laborious), maybe finishing that damn new design, and maybe at some point I will finally drive across the Golden Gate Bridge and see Golden Gate Park and all those things I’ll probably never have another chance to see.

This is life.
Fuck you all.