I really let her go today.

Odd, I thought I was going to marry her (May 29, 2001). 'Course, things change. Especially when you're not the one changing them (November 7, 2001). We attempted a reconciliation. She dumped the John Deere guy, told me that she was sure that I was the one, that I was who she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. She tried hard. I know she did, you can't fake sincerity like that. Besides, she's no actor. I can read her like a book, always have been able to. When we started, it annoyed her, because when she gave me wax "Nothing"s to sincere What's wrong?"s, I wouldn't stop until I had melted through to the core. Why does it annoy us when someone does exactly what we want them to? She eventually came to rely on it, and it made her feel good to know that I prodded because I cared.

I told her a week ago, nine days now actually. I can't get around it, no matter how much I want to. I can't get around the hurt. I wish I knew this was coming, I wish I could have dealt with this earlier, but the fact is I was dealing with sharing her with another guy, and before that I was in agony over a crushed heart, thank you very much. Too tired to get angsty. She didn't cry over the phone, said she just couldn't find the tears. I'm sure she cried later, she's pretty sensitive. She finished off the vodka I left over there (not much, she joked earlier today), ate some comfort food (Pokey sticks. Good stuff), packed, woke up the next morning, drove home, and was off to Walt Disney World for a family vacation with the folks and two younger brothers for 12 hour days of Fast Pass rides, mother making snide comments about her weight and father scheduling the fun out of everything.

She got home today. We were putting up the tree at my place, the family said invite her over, and I did. We hung out, it was fun, tried to do some karaoke with friends at the casino (no more karaoke ever, turning the room into more slot machines), ended up at Perkins, got tired, came back to my place. There's so much history in that room, you could almost feel it in the air, dank before turning on the baseboard heater. I held her. She cried. I cried. I wished it didn't have to be like this. She says it's her own fault anyhow.

I'll never stop loving you.

She said that to me before. She also said she'd never dump me for somebody else, that there was no one she wanted to be with but me.

She also said she wanted to marry me.

Things change.

I walked her to the door. I held her again. She said she'd call tomorrow. I watched her drive away.

There she goes.