2001-05-17
7:12 p.m.

I don't know why I torture myself sometimes. I will go back on my computer, and read old E-mails that Jenn and I sent each other. E-mails that were void of the pain that is underlying in the mail we send each other now. I guess by reading them, I can momentarily loose myself in a time when it was so much easier, when everything seemed so right. We were discovering each other, as well as discovering ourselves. For just a few minutes, when I am lost in the words we had written each other, I can imagine that everything is right again. For a moment, I can imagine myself calling her, inviting her to go to dinner, but as soon as I get to the end of the E-mail, the illusion fades, and I am struck with reality.

Life is short, it's over in the blink of an eye. In a heart beat, it all fades away. Those extra hours spend at work, away from your loved one, just to buy that useless extravagence, suddenly seem so inconcequential. As your breath your last breath, it is the warmth of love that you reach for, the compassion of friendship. People as a whole, however, seem so focused on thier self preservation, on being better than everyone else, that life just slips away. Years later, as they are old, thier prime years long gone, they realized that they missed that chance, that chance to have amazing connection with someone else. When I get older, I will know that I didn't miss that chance, that I took it. I grabbed on to it, and I didn't let go. The only thing I will be faced with, however, is the knowledge that while I took that leap, that chance, that there was someone else out there, who took it away. Well, let me rephrase that, tried to take it away, but I have faith that we are stronger. I, will never have any regrets about the choices I made, my only regret is that there are people out there that will never feel that kind of love.

ER..wow. If you missed it, you missed an amazing episode. That man, going out and killing so many people, young children, mothers, it didn't seem to matter who got hurt in the process, all that mattered was that he shot a few certain people. People who were innocent, who were only trying to help, doing thier jobs. What frightens me, chills me to the bone, is that there are people like him everywhere, waiting to snap. If you are in the wrong place, at the wrong time, then your life could easily be one of the unfortunate ones to be lost. In the end, as I watched Mark, staring that man in the eyes, letting his life slip away, although I was shocked, there was a small part of me cheering him on. I know that sounds horrible, but I kept thinking about how many people he killed, knowing that that little boy will grow up without a mother, and stuff like that, and knowing that as far as America's justice system is concerned, the man would probably get off on insanity. I know that justice shouldn't be taken in ones own hands, but that part posed a lot of questions, as far as morality goes.

I was also cheering Dr. Weaver on as she let Dr. Romano have it. "I am both, I am the cheif of emergency medicine, and I am a lesbian.." I was jumping up and down, much to my mom's dismay, although I know my mom was rooting for her too. I've gotten to the point where anyone who can judge a person by their sexuality alone isn't worth my time. If you get to know me and don't like me then that's fine, I can accept that. No one, however, can determine anything about me by my sexuality alone. It in know way completely makes up who I am. If anyone can judge me for that, then, they might as well judge me for eating meat as well, and while your at it, sometimes, my socks don't match. Yep, that's right, I have been known to go out in socks that are not the same color.

Therapy went pretty well today, although it felt so short. It felt like I had only been in for fifteen minutes before she was getting up and walking me to the door. When I went in today, I didn't think I was really going to have anything to talk about, and suddenly I find myself talking non-stop. I even talked about a bunch of you diarylanders. It was all good, I promise. My therapist is even going to start recommending diaryland to her other patients. Heh, then Maile can get some more people for her mental illness ring.

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