I really wish you were here.

I woke up sick today. Every depressed person knows what its like to be sick. The pains the nightmares, the restless sleep. I'd go back to sleep but i somehow dont think its possible right now. I'd eat to get rid of the gastric but i know i'll just throw up. So i light another cigerette and rest in the comfort of the familiar smells.

I was in a war early this morning. I remember lying down, proning, firing my M16. I felt the two shots one going under the right side of my body under my ribcage. The other on the left side of my chest barely missing my heart. I remember the searing pain, the shock, the adreneline. I thought i'd have died but by some dream logic i didnt.

Sometimes i have this secret desire to go to war. To be a war photographer, to immortalise the suffering. To give a face to the countless that are no longer among us, barely mourned, barely remembered. The sadness is in how much a human life is valued. The price of death, now made so avaliable like everything else. Abortions for under a hundred, bullets for mere cents, cigerettes going at ten bucks a pack, booze for twenty at DFS.

I had my question asnwered, sort of. I bought a book, by an author i didnt know, with a cover i didnt like. But she won a Pulitzer. The book is called Namesake, i wanted a book to tie me over for the holidays. Namesake like its title brought back a wave of memories of what i used to be like, of the simplicity of life before it all got so screwed up. I remember what it was like to be me before everything, so crystal.

Normally on days like this i'd reach for the phone to call John. He wouldn't say much but he always gave me the impresison that he understood how i felt. I called Tab, i wanted to wish her mom happy new year. Its funny how i've been talking to her all these almost 10 years. Its one of the strangest relationships i've got in my life. I've never met her, nor do i know her name. Yet she gives really good advice, like a real veteran of life.

I ended up having a conversation with Tanya, the last time i spoke to her was when we went to church last year in my attempt to look for god to soothe my breaking heart. I remember the answer i got, that god didnt abandon me. It was the other way around. We talked and for once the small talk didnt feel like a grating pain. Somehow there are still people i find comfort in. As alone and as anti-social as i've become.

In another 4 hours it'll be denise's birthday. I'm sitting here, alone at home, tired, depressed, listening to Elliot Smith enjoying the silence and solidarity of being single. Its not that i dont want to move on. Theres nothing I want to move on to. I told Tanya that i'd like to find another lover, hours later i'm eating my words, realising how incomplete I am.

Somehow in this space, full of its depressing words, if you were reading it from the start the writings might have made you numb to the inconsequential whinning of things that will never come to pass. Things that were woven with wishful thinking, of hopes that no longer have any place in my life. So they come to rest here in this graveyard of forgotten words, promises and parts of me that never healed.

I've come to learn that time doesn't really heal the wounds. New parts of you grow, and you slowly learn to accept the inevitable, letting go of the old parts that have grown so dear to you. Some people let go, i think, i'm not so sure. I know that i dont. They just fade into the background. Some twist of fate, slip of chance, some bearded old man in front of his great computer with me on the screen and a sole red button on it that says "smite" in big bold words, probably with the Impact font for greater ironic detail. It rushes back to me, the hopes that i have to put down, the lovers that i have to get away from. The parts of me that i grew with them in hopes of never being apart. The parts of me that i nurtured so carefully, tenderly, with a single-minded perfection and attention to detail.

I used to think that if anybody was going to be hurt, let it be me. I dont know why i used to think that. I dont like the idea of hurting someone I love. Years later these small parts of me still exist. They are kept in a cold damp place without sunlight, and will be forever mourned by me. Thats the truth that i can accept. Its like ghost busters, sometimes when you put the ghost of memory in the rest of them rush out in an attempt to live again. And you have to confront each and every one of them again.

Today is that day. I feel so much like myself. I remember who and what i am so clearly. Maybe its the fever, maybe its that stale taste in my mouth, that feeling of being completely alone. Of being sick to my stomach. I suddenly remember what its like to feel loved, i suddenly understand what it means to love somebody, to ache, to want. Suddenly i dont feel nothing. The peace around me shatters like thin glass. I feel like i'm dying. I feel the increasing urge to throw up, to beat myself senseless just to get away from all the hurt, taking the pills just to drift into a dreamless sleep. I feel like crying, huddled alone in a corner, backed up clutching my hands to my chest. I feel like that day on the undecided shoot. When i wanted to jump off the building, but i didnt because we still had the other half to shoot. I feel like i would do anything just to get away from this feeling. I almost cant take it.

Sometimes i think its sheer stubbornness that keeps me from doing all those things. Mostly I think I dont throw up because vomit in my nose is uncomfortable. I dont take sleeping pills because they didnt work the last time. I wont beat myself up because it'll just make me feel worse. I havent cried when i felt like this since that night at bar none. I learnt to cry on the inside and pretend to be alright on the outside. I wont jump off the building because i'm too much of a coward, and Sammy's coming to visit by some fluke chance. It wouldn't be fair to place my burdens on him or anyone for that matter. I've learnt to cope alone. I've learnt to distrust everyone. I've learnt to not let my vulrnerabilities show. Except for Tanya this morning, and John, nobody really knows what its like. I trust Sam somehow, right now i wish i could talk to her, but it won't be fair because like Sidney said, dont ruin the mood for all the happy people.

I think shes happy. I think everybodys happy. I feel like some abnormaly. I feel like cutting me off from the world. Where i can go alone and die in peace. Without people giving me that twinkle of hope that things will get better. Summoning the courage from my already battered soul to try to live again.

Sammy said i'm caught in a rut. I guess thats what it is sometimes. And at times like this i know exactly why i'm in a rut. Because i cant afford to have my hopes dashed again. If anything, this seratonin difficency is good for one thing. I experience a sense of clarity, the shades of grey disappear, and everything is black and white. Maybe thats why so many great writers are depressed. I know exactly how to stop it, and i know exactly how bad it can get, and its going to get. I'm know enough to say "never say never", but as far as this kind of low goes, theres nothing lower than this. Maybe if it were compounded with something else it would be worse. But right now this is all i have to deal with.

At the very least i'm happy denise never had to go through this. I'm shocked that Tanya understands, i dont expect anyone to. The saddest thing is that i should be over the moon this chinese new year esp, but i feel a deep sense of regret. The oddest thing happened, I was confronted by my worst fear. And it really tears me up inside, it puts everything into perspective. I dont think i'll ever stop loving once i've started.