We spent New Years together, and celebrated our anniversary a bit early, since it was unclear whether I’d be able to see her on the actual day. Her classes started last week, so she’s been busy. While we were together, we reaffirmed our love and the certainty of our future together. We thanked each other for this new beginning. We started 2010 off right, in each other’s arms, and promised that neither would let anything get in the way of our life together again. That was our anniversary gift to each other – a rebirth, another shot at grabbing on to happiness and keeping hold of it as if nothing else in the world matters, because nothing does.

The day after she returned to Annapolis, I made this book for her as a bonus gift. It’s nothing huge or expensive, but I spent two days revising each word, changing photos around. I could have kept going like that forever, obsessing over every page, every letter. It was a labor of love. Its value lies in the sentiment, and when she read it and cried, I wished I could have filled volumes instead of just 20 pages.

To The Love Of My Life - on our two year anniversary.

I love you... and I've loved you since the first time I laid eyes on you.

Since that first weekend... I knew my life was never going to be the same.

You make me want to live. Your smile makes me believe everything will be ok.

I'd hold you close to me every second of every day if I could. I love us, the two of us, and our life together.

And when you look at me and smile this way, I feel like the most important person in the world. I need to feel your kisses on my cheek when I feel down...

...and I need to be the one who makes you laugh. You're already a part of my family, and they see the effect you have on me.

You fit me. We fit each other. I can't imagine living without you. I can't imagine missing out on these small kisses on your forehead...

...or staring into your amazing, gorgeous eyes. You are my love, my heart, my future. You are my one and only someone, now and forever.

I've never been as happy as I have been with you. You make me feel so special and loved. You saved my life from apathy and fear, and I'll never be able to repay you, but I'll gladly spend the rest of my life trying.

I'm so proud of everything you've accomplished. I admire your determination and drive. I love your dreams, and I want to be there to support them. I love you. I always will. You are the love of my life, and you own my heart until the day I die.

Thank you for giving me, and us, a second chance at the life we're destined to have together. I love you. I'm in love with you, and I can't wait to marry you. Happy Anniversary.

Two years ago today, a wonderful person with an almost unfathomable capacity to love, someone who could have anyone she wanted, and deserves so much more than I can ever give her – that person saw something in me that I’m still not sure really exists, and decided on the spot that she wanted to be around it for the rest of her life. I looked back, and wondered whether this could actually be real, if the look in her eyes meant what I thought it did, and if I could ever be enough for her. I saw a love so expansive and true that I could barely believe it was real. That kind of thing only exists in movies, right?

And now, two years hence, I know it is indeed real. It lived on in both of us when the lesser love I’d gotten used to from other girls, and grown to believe was the best I’d ever get, would have shriveled up and died. It shown bright and never flickered at the end of the tunnel in which I’d trapped myself, and even though that light was 1200 miles away, I knew I’d get back to it if I kept trying. For the first time in my life, I had a goal. I knew this was going to happen, and I chased it without fear of being hurt or judged.

It was worth it.

Now, I spend all of my time looking forward. For a person who does nothing but dwell on and analyze what has already happened, this is a dramatic shift in thinking. I’ve never dared to imagine what my own life might be, because I never believed I could have any of the things people typically dream about: a family, a career, kids, a life. Jenn gave that to me, and it’s the greatest gift I’ve ever gotten. In return, I plan to devote every spare brain cell, and quite a few of the ones that are supposed to be dedicated to other things, to coming up with ways to make her happy, and support her, and make her life as amazing and fulfilling as I can. She’s my rock, my foundation, and I can finally allow myself to dream, and to live. She deserves more moments like this:

I love you, Jenn. I can’t say it any better than that. Thank you for being.

Things started off great for me in 2009. Things with Jenn were going very well. We celebrated our one year anniversary, and what a year it was. Work was the same as it always was – frustrating, but stable and rewarding. Sandra’s baby was healthy. Everyone was alive. Things were mostly happy.

Then I made a huge mistake, thinking it was a noble and selfless act. I thought I was sacrificing my own wants and needs for the benefit of another, putting her before myself. That was a foolish thing to believe. It was short-sighted. I broke the heart of the most important person in the world to me, and inadvertently made her believe I no longer cared for her.

That single mistake set events into motion that would wreak havoc on several lives, and it’s all my fault. I threw a giant boulder into the stream of my life, and sent the waters scattering all around it in disarray. The ripples have yet to subside.

Lacey died shortly thereafter. While there was nothing to be done about that, and she lived a very long, very happy life, it still broke the hearts of the entire family. I don’t think my mistake had anything to do with her dying. That would be silly. But at the same time, I do, because I’m not allowed to screw up, so I take on the weight of the world when I do

August was a time of loss. I began to realize exactly what I’d given up when breaking up with Jenn, and how idiotic I’d been when dealing with her moving away. I disregarded the love and emotion in the equation and approached it from a purely logical point of view, which was a mistake. The love between us was the biggest factor. But I didn’t want to make her life more difficult than it already was, since she’d just moved and was still adjusting. I lost friends. Terrible things happened, and I reacted to them extraordinarily poorly, and made the second gigantic mistake of 2009, one that will never fully go away. I was deeply, deeply depressed. I was working from home at the time, and for 2 months or so, I barely got out of bed. I lost around 30 pounds. I kept everything that was happening very close, only sharing it with a few people out of necessity. I hated myself for all of it, every single thing that had happened since June 14th.

It took time, but I dug myself out. I’ve always told people that making mistakes is natural. Everyone does it. It’s how you handle the mistake that counts. Learn from it, grow, move on. I needed to let that apply to myself. I’ll never truly forgive myself for any of it, of course, and there are plenty of people out there who won’t let me forget, but I have to learn, grow, and move on.

In October, I began doing that. And during this particular month, people began showing their true colors. Those who I thought were close to me proved they were not, and that the things I’d been sure of about our friendship weren’t true at all. More loss, more disappointment, more disillusioning. I refocused on the importance and reliability of family. I put more emphasis on relying only on myself for everything. I start becoming more independent, an actual, tried and true adult.

In November, the reality of losing Jenn hits when I find out she’s dating someone. I haven’t talked about this publicly in any explicit terms yet, mainly because the situation has been, to put things lightly, tumultuous. When I saw she’d changed her status on Facebook, my heart died. It felt like we’d only just then broken up. I still loved her, and I thought she knew that. Somewhere in my mind I was convinced she’d never stop loving me. I’d told her she should date a couple of months before this, and it took me a full two minutes to type those words to her when I did. She shouldn’t have to be alone just because we couldn’t be together. But now it was real, and I couldn’t take it.

Still, I tried to be strong, thinking breaking up with her was the right thing to do. I try to tell her that I’m happy for her and I hope she’s happy. She didn’t seem very enthusiastic about the relationship, and told me that part of her heart still belonged to me. In that, I saw an opportunity to fix things. I saw a chance to make everything right again. For the first time in my life, I felt the need to pursue something, to fight for something. All the apathy in me was washed away, and I had one purpose: win her back.

I left my house on a very cold and slightly rainy night and wandered around Virginia Beach for hours, talking to myself, exploring my mind, constructing apologies as poetically and honestly as I could. I went over every minute of our time together in my mind. I was honest with myself for the first time – wanting the best education for her was still the reason for encouraging her to go to Kansas, and not wanting to lose her forever because of the fighting and stress was still the reason for breaking up, but there was now something else: fear of living. She talked about spending the rest of our lives together, and having children, and it scared me, because I knew I wanted those things but had lost hope in ever having them. I gave up on that life a long time ago. I’d grown bitter and cynical because of the things I saw all around me. I put up a shield around those secret, abandoned dreams, saying I never wanted kids, refusing to grow close to them. I was afraid of being a bad father. Terribly, excruciatingly afraid of not being able to provide for them, or messing them up by not being absolutely perfect in every way, every second of every day. I was afraid of failing as a husband, ripping my family apart by being selfish or obtuse. I was afraid of letting myself believe I could have any of the things that I knew existed somewhere in the world, but that no one seems to ever actually have and hold on to. Everyone around me comes from divorced parents. Everyone around me has been screwed up in some way by some mistake their parents made.

When Jenn dared to dream about having those things with me, she may as well have been aiming a gun right at my heart. I knew that if I was ever going to do those things, she was the one to do them with. I just wasn’t ready to let go of that fear, and her constant demands that I do made it harder to deal with.

I’m not afraid anymore.

I wrote her long, meandering emails daily, multiple times a day, every day for three weeks. We talked on the phone, and in the beginning, it was always extremely emotional. It was torture for both of us, but the good kind of torture, the kind that comes from intense passion and fighting for something you need to go on living. I felt like shit for every tear she shed, and every restless night, but I knew it was temporary, and it would all be worth it in the end. It never crossed my mind that things might not work out like I wanted them to. I knew we belonged together. I knew she wanted me back. I never gave up hope.

At the same time, I felt like a complete asshole. I’ve never been the type to pursue unavailable women. It’s not my thing, and I know what it’s like to be on the other side of this kind of thing. I felt like a dick for pursuing her when she was in a relationship. But we were in love, and sometimes I convinced myself that he was the interloper here. That didn’t really do much to assuage my guilt, but I never lost sight of the fact that I’d driven her to him, and that she belonged with me, and I wasn’t just trying to wreck her attempts to move on… I was fixing something that should never have happened. If she’d ever said to me “I don’t want to be with you, please stop.” I would have stopped, and resigned myself to a long, long period of quiet misery.

But she never did.

She came home to Annapolis for Thanksgiving and agreed to see me. Well, I told her I was coming whether she agreed or not, and that I hoped she would spare some time for me. She did, and when I saw her I knew it was real, and that what I was doing was right. I knew it the second I looked into her eyes, and I knew she could see everything that words could not express in mine. When I touched her, even if it was just to rub my shoulder against hers in the booth at dinner, it was electric. We were all smiles that day, and I knew everything would be ok. I knew she was mine, and had never stopped being mine.

She broke up with him a couple of days after heading back to school. I went to Kansas the following weekend. He’s had a hard time accepting it, and there’s been more drama than there needed to be, considering the nature of their relationship. I feel responsible for all of it, as I should, because I caused every bit of this. I wish there was something I could do or say to make everything right. I haven’t yet found those words.

What I do know is that this probably is for the best. If we’d never broken up, I may not have realized that she’s the one. I may have carried that fear for the next three years. We may have continued fighting, and much more disastrous, irreversible things may have happened. We had to walk through this fire to get back to where we were, and to get back to our life together.

So. Here we are, coming towards the end of December, and the end of 2009. The biggest mistake of my life is 99% fixed, and my bond with her is stronger for it. The second biggest mistake of my life is being dealt with. Lacey is still gone, and several friendships are still dead in the water, but it doesn’t hurt quite so much when I go to my mom’s house anymore, and false friendships aren’t something to be missed. Truthfully, they were dead weight that needed to be shed a long time ago. And if all goes to plan, 2010 will start off the way every year hence should start: by her side, staring into those deep blue oases she keeps where her eyes rightfully should be.

That was 2009. Resolutions for 2010:

• Continue spending every spare second thinking of ways to make up for my mistakes to Jennifer Rachel Erwin, and continue spending every dime I have making her happy.
• Continue to lose weight. 217 lbs as of yesterday.
• Introduce Jenn to my grandparents. If she does make it down to Virginia Beach for New Years, I’m going to take her to their house. They need to meet the girl that owns my heart. I’ll never forgive myself if that never happens, and I’ll have wasted their love and approval and acceptance on she who will not be named.
• Learn. I’ve been stagnant for far too long. I need to learn something new, anything at all. On the agenda right now: objective-c and the iPhone SDK, c#, and the history of Judaism.
• Figure out if moving to Kansas is a good idea or not.

People who know me know that I overanalyze and overthink pretty much everything. Every sentence, every facial expression, every insignificant action. I dwell. I doubt. I worry, I hesitate, I question, I distrust. I tend to have a one track mind when it comes to people I care about. I focus on them and whatever issue they have, and I don’t let it go until I’ve resolved it for myself and for them. Knowing that, you should all know that I’ve spent every waking minute of every day for the past month and a half pondering the future, and there is no doubt, no uncertainty, no vagueness, not a single question in my head. I know what I want, and I know what she wants, and I know we will have it. It’s not going to be easy, but for the first time ever, I have a goal, and I will do anything to pursue it. 2010 will be the second beginning of that pursuit, and more than that, a personal rebirth – and I can’t wait for it to start.

I try to learn from my mistakes. I try to approach things objectively and use reason and logic to figure out what to do. Usually, my initial reaction is very emotional and irrational, depending on the severity of the situation. I know that. It’s something I struggle with. But I can usually stifle that until I have time to parse things out and think them out logically. This way of thinking has served me well throughout most of my adult life.

I’m starting to question how useful this is in real life, though.

Is it right to not be upset when a relative dies because their lifestyle directly contributed to it, and they have no one to blame but themselves? It’s logical to prepare yourself for that death in advance, since it’s imminent, but it’s almost inhuman to not even shed a tear when it actually happens.

Is it right to end a relationship that, while not perfect, is mostly functional and makes you extremely happy, just because you see ever-increasing fights on the horizon and logic tells you that ending things now will result in less turmoil and hard feelings in the long run? I thought so. But I’m seeing now that the right thing to do isn’t always the right thing to do. I was a fool, and I’ve lost someone very important to me forever because of it. There’s nothing right about what’s happened here, and I’d give anything to take it back. I was wrong. Logic was wrong.

Does it make sense to never forgive yourself for your mistakes? It’s easy to argue that some things should never be forgiven, and that kind of judgement is always relative. If you believe you’re not allowed to screw up, even the smallest misstep feels like a tragedy. Logic dictates that mistakes can usually be corrected or paid for, and one should learn from it and move on. But people aren’t good at learning from their mistakes. They have a profound capacity for self-denial. As time goes on, the mistake is forgotten or mitigated until one finds himself thinking that it wasn’t THAT bad, and the mistake is repeated. If you always hold yourself accountable for that mistake, and suffer for it, it stays resident. Fear of repeating it becomes almost pathological. It’s always there, and you can never, ever do it again. It’s hellish, but effective.

There’s always a struggle between the mind and the heart, between logic and emotion. I’ve been in two situations in my life when I let emotion overcome; one was with she who shall not be named, in which the logical side turned out to be correct. The other is happening right now, and I believe my fear of losing control of myself again may have made me overreact 5 months ago. I always told her that “you never let something like that happen again”, and I certainly held true to that, but… I have regrets. Big, ever-present, soul crushing regrets. I took things for granted. I avoided dealing with issues until they were right in my face. I thought I’d expressed certain things that I had not. I assumed that she felt the same way that I did, and I thought I could handle things that I could not. Above all, I assumed that the future held infinite opportunity for second chances… And that was yet another giant mistake. The right thing to do in the long term was actually just a temporary fix for my own worries, and now I’m reaping the consequences.

I’ve spent a lot of time over the past couple of months thinking about the nature of my relationships with people. Certain people have shown their true colors to me and illustrated just how selfish and narcissistic they can be. That sort of thing colors the entire friendship, since all their actions are now viewed through a different lense. I’ve discovered that the infinite understanding and willingness to help of family is something I’ve taken for granted for a long time. I’ve learned that genuine love is not something to be tossed aside, because it doesn’t come around very often. I’ve learned that above all, though, I can only truly rely on myself. People will always disappoint you eventually.

For the past two days I’ve been sequestered in my house, aside from a couple of long, late night walks, when the city is quiet and I can hear myself think… I’ve been sitting in the dark with a hole in my chest and a mind full of regrets. I don’t know what else to do, other than the standard cliche advice: don’t torture yourself, move on, time heals all wounds, blah blah blah. I don’t want to move on. I deserve the torture after everything I’ve done recently. I deserve to lose her permanently. I deserve every bad thing that happens to me. I was selfish then, and I’m being selfish now by bringing it all up again, and I wish I could stop but I just… Can’t. It consumes me. Every mistake weighs on my mind every minute of every day, and it should, because I deserve it.

On the bright side, I lost another 4 pounds.

I need time to myself. For those who are reaching out, I appreciate the concern, but I need to be alone for a while. I have a lot on my mind, more than I can express or even allude to in a single post, and you can’t help me sort it out.

See you all in a month.

This is Lacey.

She’s been part of our family since I was 10 or so. She was ancient, almost 18 years old. That’s impressive for any dog, but moreso if you consider that she was mostly beagle, and they usually only live to be 12 on average.

She’s a sweet dog. She’s got a lot of personality, and she was always very warm and caring toward people. Whenever anyone was sick, she was always nearby.

Recently, her health has been waning. The ravages of time and old age were clearly getting the best of her. She went deaf, she developed arthritis in her hip, and she could barely use her back legs. Still, she was pretty energetic and her mind was still clear.

Until last week.

I woke up last Friday to a text from Crystal saying Lacey had had a seizure the night before. I laid in bed crying for 10 or 20 minutes. I can’t really remember clearly a time when Lacey wasn’t a part of our family. She’s like a sister.

For the few weeks preceding the seizure, she’d been throwing up and refusing to eat. She’d even refused cheese from me a few times. It was easy to ignore it, though. Everyone gets an upset stomach now and then, and it was way too upsetting to think she might be seriously ill. She still seemed mostly ok, for an almost 18 year old dog, anyway.

But the seizure makes it real. The seizure can’t be ignored or played down. I went over to see her during lunch that day. Mom and Crystal were both home. Lacey was laying on her bed, covered in a blanket. She wouldn’t move at all. She didn’t even lift her head when I came over, she just moved her eyes. She’d occasionally twitch. Mom said she’d vomited some blood and lost control of her bladder during the seizure, but that she’d eaten a little food this morning without throwing it up, which is good. I sat there and petted her for 20 minutes or so, and tried to appear strong. She kept looking at me with very sad eyes. When I thought I was about to start crying, I went to wash my hands and said I had to get back to work.

In the bathroom, I almost lost control. Then I heard Lacey yelping. I came out to see her limping around mom’s bed, occasionally crying. I tried to pet her but she cried when I touched her. She tried to climb off of the bed, but couldn’t. Mom helped her down. She was having a lot of trouble walking. She wandered around the room, then down the hall to the front door, like she always does when she needs to pee. I tried to pet her sides like I usually do when I come in the door and she’s standing there, wondering who’s knocking, wagging her tail. She just fell down. I felt awful. Mom let her out, and she went down the porch steps, almost losing her footing. She really did have to pee, and that made me laugh for some reason.

I recorded a short video of her walking around the yard, noticed Buddy had come home, said bye to mom and Lacey, got in the car, and immediately started crying. I cried the whole way back to work (which isn’t long, maybe 2 minutes) and then sat in the car in my parking spot and cried more, trying to hide it in case any coworkers were out.

That afternoon, mom took her to the vet, where she got some pain medication and they did some blood tests. The next day, they called and confirmed that her kidneys were failing, badly, and that they could put her in the hospital and give her fluids, which might buy her a few days, but the stress from being in there for that long, away from mom, would do her more harm than good.

I went over early Sunday morning to see her. I spent about 30 minutes with her, petting her. She seemed so sick, so tired. It hurt to see her that way. She’d occasionally move around, but not very much.

I took some heartbreaking pictures of mom kissing her nose.

Yesterday, I woke up to a txt from mom saying that Lacey had had a very bad night, and that she saw she had no choice but to put her to sleep. I offered to take her instead of waiting for Buddy to get off of work. I wanted to be there when she died, but at the same time, I wished I could ignore it, because I knew it would break mine and mom’s hearts. I felt like it was my responsibility, though, since I was the oldest.

I went over to mom’s at 11:15. Lacey was laying on the floor near her bed, barely able to lift her head up. I pet her for a while, trying not to cry. Then, way too soon, mom said we should go. I said “already?” and the tears were harder to fight back. She picked her up, we walked out to the van, and we were both starting to cry. She sat with her in the back. Crystal drove, and I looked out the window and tried to be as discreet as possible while wiping my tears. She used to love riding in cars. She’d always get really excited when she heard keys jingling. This was the last ride she’d ever take.

We kept hitting red lights, and I was beyond thankful for every one that bought us more time with her, even though I couldn’t look at her without feeling like the dam was going to burst. Mom realized she’d forgotten her purse. I offered to pay.

We got there, and Mary-Anne was waiting for us. Mom got Lacey out of the van, we hesitated a bit. Her face was a little more animated now, almost like she wasn’t sick at all, but I know it was just fear and adrenaline. She hated going to the vet. We walked in, weighed her, and filled out some paperwork. The woman at the desk was very matter-of-fact about the whole thing, and I was trying very hard not to fall apart. It cost $196, and after I handed her my card, I immediately felt regret and guilt, like it was my fault, I was making it happen. I paid $200 to kill Lacey and burn her body.

We sat and pet her for a while. She was sitting on mom’s lap. Everyone was crying to various degrees. Then they called us back to a room (the same room they had examined Harley in when she had that abscess, by the way) and we laid her on a towel. We sat there for maybe 20 minutes, petting her, telling stories, kissing her forehead. She twitched now and then, and seemed to drift in and out of sleep.

At one point she dry-heaved a little, and I noticed that her slobber was kind of brown. I was barely able to keep myself together. Every few minutes I’d feel a swell of anguish rise up in me, and my body would shake, and my tears would force their way through, and my whole face would bunch up and quiver. I cried the entire time, never taking my eyes off of her, always petting her. Every time I heard a noise near the door, I willed them to wait longer. Everyone else seemed to want them to hurry, saying it was torture. I can understand this, since they all believe in heaven, and believed it would be a blessing for her to die and move on to a happier place. I don’t share that belief. For me, this was it, and I didn’t want it to be, so every second was a gift. I kissed her on the forehead, and I regretted all the times I hadn’t taken the time to do that, saying she smelled or was dirty.

When the doctor and assistant finally came in, she was going through the normal schpiel, and I heard her filling the syringe with the anesthetic. I lost it. I tried my best to control my crying, but it came freely. Death was imminent and real. The assistant pet her roughly, formally, since I guess they’re used to animals fighting it. Lacey just laid there until the needle actually penetrated her skin. When that happened, she lifted her head and turned away from it, and we all tried to reassure her, but she was clearly afraid. I rubbed the side of her cheek, just under her ear. She always loved that. The injection went in so slowly. I stared at it, wishing it wouldn’t work, until it was empty and Lacey seemed to be sleeping. The doctor listened to her heart, everyone was crying but trying not to. She said “She’s gone”, we all cried, then her legs and tail started to spasm, and I had to turn away. I couldn’t bear to watch. I cried very hard, and I think Mary-Anne hugged me.

She just lay there, like she was sleeping. I’d seen her sprawled out on the floor in exactly that pose so many times. They couldn’t get her eyes to close… They were half open, lazy and clear, still seemingly full of life. She was still warm. We all cried. I hugged mom. The doctor left. The assistant said she had some clay and could make a mold of her paw, and went off to get it. We stood there crying, petting her, not able to believe she was really gone. The assistant came back, clipped her nails, and made the impression. They all laughed about how long her nails had been, how much she’d hated having them clipped, and how the only way she’d have let it be done was to die. We stayed with her for a while, petting and kissing her, then left.

I cried the entire way home. It felt so wrong to leave her there. She wouldn’t have wanted to be away from mom, even in death. It felt wrong that she died in a place that she hated so much. Everything about it felt wrong.

I stayed at mom’s for about an hour. I couldn’t stop crying. I kept seeing her out of the corner of my eye, laying on the couch, or at mom’s feet, or sitting at the fridge begging for cheese. I kept thinking about how I’d never see her greeting me at the door when I came over, or rolling around in the dirt in the front yard, or getting so excited whenever I got up and walked toward the kitchen, thinking she was going to get some cheese. I’d never see a dining room chair mysteriously move back and forth while she used it to scratch her back. I’d never see her ears perk up and her head cock when she heard a weird noise, never be grossed out when she licked some wound on my arm, never ever be able to give her another piece of cheese. I felt sick over all the times that she’d wanted one and I said no.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I saw that Buddy was home, so I left. I’d barely said a word the entire time, for fear of losing control. Once I got in the car, though, I cried my fucking eyes out. I almost wrecked a couple of times. I continued crying most of the way home.

Before all of this happened, I thought frequently about how awful this would be.  I thought that somehow, by thinking about it now, it would lessen the impact when it actually happened. I was very, very wrong. Lacey was more than just a pet. She was a member of the family. I have very few memories that predate her. She’s always been there, and now she’s not, and we’re all heartbroken.

Jenn and I have broken up. It was a very hard thing for me to do, made much harder by the way she handled it, but it had to be done. Things had grown toxic between us. We were both at fault for that; her, unable to control her emotions, exploding at me in tears and anger over every little thing, and me, unable to bear even the slightest hint of conflict, to the point that I anticipated arguments and fights in even the most benign circumstances.

For the past few weeks, as things have gotten worse with her moving home to Annapolis and preparing to move to Kansas, I’ve been increasingly unable to ignore the obvious path this relationship was taking. Once she was in Kansas, and during the weeks immediately preceding her move, the amount of stress and anxiety she’d be feeling would be extremely high, which would lead to more and more fights. The frequency with which she would hit me with guilt trips over not being able to come see her as often as she’d like, while unintentional, would crush me. We’d both be miserable. She’d resent me for not doing more, and I’d resent her for expecting me to do too much. We’d grow to hate each other, and I can’t bear the thought of that.

It became clear to me that if I was going to salvage any relationship at all with her, it had to end before it got to that point. I can’t bear the thought of losing her completely. I still love her very much, but love isn’t the only thing you need to keep a relationship going, especially a long distance one.

Right now, she hates me for doing this to her. She thinks it’s a mistake. I hate myself for causing her this pain, and I sometimes think it would just be easier to take it back and go back to pretending that everything is fine. But I know that will only make things better temporarily. I have to keep reminding myself that this is better in the long run. I have to bear the burden in this, yet again, for making things work. I just wish she could see it…

Perhaps, in a few years, we’ll meet up again, and she’ll have grown up a bit, figured herself out a little, have some clue about the things that make her tick. Perhaps I’ll have grown more patient. Perhaps I’ll develop a desire to have someone be completely dependent on me for their happiness and well-being. Perhaps then we can try again. Right now, though, I can’t even talk to her about our issues without her falling apart and shutting down, and I can’t be in a situation like that. I have to be able to discuss things with the person I am with. It can’t work otherwise.

Between this, the encounters with my grandparents, and things going on at work… this has been a horrible week, and I’m inclined to just avoid human contact as much as possible for the next few days so I can grieve in peace.

You may or may not be aware that there is a basketball player also named JR Smith. He plays for the Denver Nuggets. I changed my site several years ago into a Geocities-style fan site for this guy, as an April Fool’s joke.

Over the last week or two, I’ve been getting an increasing number of mentions on Twitter from people thinking that I’m that guy. It was amusing at first, but now it’s just fucking irritating.

I’ve decided to chronicle those cases here, for prosperityposterity.

It started off innocently enough:

@DaLeynaRae – Way to go Denver!!! Great game @jrsmith!

And some of these people seemed to have useful or positive things to say:

@WallerCo – @jrsmith….where are u? U know the conference finals started tonight right?

@Ericsona – @jrsmith what did Kleza do ??

@ShadCharleston – Lol , Ok @Jrsmith ! ..can’t even hate on you for gettin’ that Tech! Good shot boy ..But still Lakers gonna Pull it off!

@jtenkely – Huge! 3 from @jrsmith at the end of the third… But you gotta watch your mouth or you give ‘em back.

@Johnytheanomaly – @JRSmith please duff #Kobe tonight

@dquarles5 – LOL @jrsmith slow mo replay of him cursin da whole dam stadium out!

Then it became evident that JR Smith is not well-liked:

@ShadCharleston – Seems like @jrsmith gets more playing time than Jones ..even though Jones starts.

@Wizdom80 – lol @JRSmith what a sissy…@nate_robinson would sock him all over again

@ShadCharleston – Ga dammit @jrsmith!!

@dnldidit – @lakersnation he smoke weed look @ his lips. Lmao @jrsmith

@D_AMAZIN – i think jr smith has a twitter.wel if he does @jrsmith i wanna see u do that goofy ass strut game 5 in la u fuckin clown!!!lmao

And, of course, the Greater Internet Fuckwad Theory came into play:

@MdotPORTER – @jrsmith shoot urself in the head! Thanks

Honestly, how difficult is it to click the link that forms when you mention me and see that I am indeed fat, white and not in a nationally-televised basketball game? Even if the picture on my profile didn’t give it away, maybe the fact that I’m checking in at a mexican restaurant on Britekite while you’re watching “me” on live TV might be a clue.

Morons.

Domain list

This shows that if all of my domains were to come up for renewal right now, I’d be on the hook for almost $500. It also shows that I only use slightly more than half of them, which surprised me.

Digging further, I divided up the costs per month:

Renewal costs by month

This shows some interesting things.

• I buy way more domains in the beginning of the year and the summer months.
• May and July are going to kill my bank account.
• I don’t buy any domains during the middle and end months of the year.
• I have too many of these things, since I only use roughly half of them.

Of course, that last point will hopefully change in the near future, since I’m trying to spend more time on personal projects.

And the answer to the original question is: roughly $30, accounting for sales and things of that nature. This list produces an average of $41.16, but that’s inflated because of my recent purchases of so-called “premium” TLDs. If you take into account the fact that most domains are around $10 normally, and they’re often on sale at Godaddy, you have to conclude that the average amount spent is less than what is being reported here. I spend more than $30 on dinner most of the time, so maybe it’s not as bad as I make it out to be.

I’ve moved my blog to this domain for several reasons:

1. I needed to make some use out of the several .me domains that I foolishly splurged on several months ago.
2. I desire to make jrsmith.net into an actual network, as the TLD suggests.
3. I like organizing things.

So, here it is. I’ll leave the default theme for now. The old speech bubble theme was dependent on some things that no longer exist, so it might be time for a change.

Links and feeds and so forth should redirect automatically, but please, update your bookmarks and feed readers. Enjoy the functionality that I never bothered duplicating in my own themes, like search and archive browsing, and let me know if you come across any errors.

My posting statistics have steadily fallen in recent years. Three or four posts a month, then two, then one, then one every 3 months. I think about this, obsess over this, constantly. As absurd as it sounds, of all things, Twitter has brought this more into focus. I follow other web designers and developers who constantly blog about the dumbest shit; it’s nothing but well known CSS hacks and “top 100 plugins for WordPress to make your dick grow!”. I look at these tweets, and the resulting retweets and fortune and fame, and I think “There but for a lack of free time go I.”

I look at my lengthy list of domain names, my vast swath of “web properties” as I’ve taken to calling them, going mostly unused… I look at the dawt net in jrsmith.net and lament that this is not a network of any kind. It’s all such a waste.

I look at my 9 years worth of posts, a good 90% of which is bullshit emo drivel, or chronicles of bullshit emo drama. Most of it could be completely washed away and this site would be the better for it. I find myself more and more inclined to do so.

It may surprise some of you, but the things that I talk about here, and have always tended to talk about here, are the things I dislike talking about with other people. I dump those things here so they don’t spill over. It’s gotten me into — I want to say trouble, but that’s overstating — irritating misunderstandings. It’s no longer safe to do so, which goes a long way to explain my unwillingness to post.

So, just as soon as I have some spare time, I’m going to archive all the existing entries and comments and begin deleting anything that doesn’t have some kind of worth. I’m moving the three or so entries that survive the slaughter to itsjustyouand.me, where I will start fresh and blog about things that are relevant to my interests: web design, perl, python, databases, art, books, movies, TV shows, phones, fourth century mating rituals and what having a third testicle really means for a man in today’s world.

Throughout my life, when things have started to go bad, I’ve coped by simplifying and shaking things up. Removing the cruft. Assimilating a new habit, denying existing ones. It works well enough; the hue of life shifts just enough to smack of freshness and renewal, while retaining enough resemblance to the old one to keep shock from setting in. And while life right now is not particularly awful, I am unhappy with my circumstances enough to crave change.

Doing something with this blog is a good first step.

It’s been a while since I posted anything here. Free time has been in very short supply.

Yesterday was the one year anniversary with Jenn, officially making it the longest functional relationship I’ve ever had. On this auspicious occasion, I can’t help but look back over the past year and take stock of what we have. There have been a few rough patches, but that’s to be expected in any kind of relationship. Nothing is ever perfect. The thing I try to keep foremost in my mind is that she actually, truly loves me. She’s not faking the funk. The way she feels is genuine. That sort of thing is rare, and not easily dismissed. If the price that I must pay for that is the occasional frustration and sometimes feeling more like a parent than a partner, then I pay it gladly.

I mean, she bought me a 3 pound bag of gummy bears. What’s not to love?

Here’s hoping we make it another year.

Today is Obama’s inauguration. It went pretty much as I expected. The noteworthy thing, in my opinion, was all the idiocy leaking out of people on cnn.com’s Facebook feed. Honestly, I missed half of his speech because I was laughing so hard at their comments. I’ve saved a few for posterity:

Andre Rivas is glad everything is fixed now. Thanks Obama!

Shit, everything is fixed?! I need to leave work early and check that old TV in my bedroom.

Brandi says “It’s over, pack your bags… we’re moving to Canada.”

OMG A BLACK IS PRESIDENT QUICK LET’S MOVE TO THE NEAREST WHITEST COUNTRY. YAY CANADIA!

Dave Baca wonders where Clinton’s hand is?

No inauguration is ever complete without a quick handjob.

Kiley Gray is The next 4 Years Are Going To Be Magical!!!

And not that sissy magic you see at birthday parties, either. ” I meditate to regain my mana, before casting Lvl. 8 Cock of the Infinite.”

Sherri Buford Today is the first day of the rest of our lives…well 4 years of our life anyway…

No fucking shit. How profound.

Bethany Kaufman thought a red tie meant Republican?

I have no idea if this is true or not. If it is, hilarious. If it isn’t, hilarious.

Cheryl Wesson Thank God for a President who can use multi-syllable words correctly & with ease!

How insensitive. I sure hope there’s someone on Facebook with the guts to respond to your libelous statements…

James Michael Keel stop making fun of the former president of the united states.

OH SNAP! You got served.

Jason Rustle Barr is eating dried fruit for Obama

I believe this is the textbook definition of patriotism. It also explains why fruitcake was so popular.

Fee Guity is Praising God for this moment in History (THE REAL INDEPENDENCE DAY) and praying that Lil B Passes his 1st spelling test!

If “little” happens to be on Lil B’s spelling test, I’d say he’s pretty well fucked.

James W. Hills is hoping that all Black Men answer the call and step up and be more responsible and accountable…

…all other ethnicities can continue to screw around.

Jan Riggs Obama is human.

I guess this won’t turn out like that one Halloween episode of The Simpsons after all.

Kaley Jordan he sucks.

Eloquent.

Anthony Akuamoah-Boateng LiKeS tHe sPeeCh. cAnt wAit fOR tHe tRaNscRipT.

sO i cAn fUCK It uP juSt LIkE i do WITh ALl oF my oWn tEXT!

Daniel Millikin watched the Obama inauguration. Hope in Jesus.

I thought Hope was in Arkansas?

Seriously, though, I’m glad Obama didn’t get shot or blown up. Aside from the obviously sad nature of such an event, if it had happened, I think we’d have no choice but to declare Game Over on America and go play somewhere else.

Edit: One other thing. To anyone else that watched the inauguration: did you notice that when Arethra Franklin started singing, she paused just a little too long between syllables when singing “Our country”? It sounded like she said “Our cunt”, and I giggled more than I’d like to admit.