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Damn it, another inflection point. Yesterday’s rise was too short, I was expecting it to last longer. The only thing that’s going the way I expected is that the euphorias and depressions get a little more mellow each time. The decreasing sine wave of receding bi-polarism.

A-, you come back to me all too often. You’re the source of my greatest art and greatest depression. When I said, “You get past my training,” and you responded, “Someone should,” I suppose I was hoping for some recognition of leeway. I’m not the composed and articulate person with you that I am with others, you get to see the chaos inside of me, the chaos I continually train myself to allow to settle. You know more of me than my parents, or Andrew, or Rob, or Nick, or Sensei.

When I asked for one last kiss, I wanted to say, “Because our last kisses soured.” Instead, I said that we hadn’t had any good kisses last time we saw each other. There were good kisses, but they had sat out too long, they were moldy and contaminated. I wanted the bittersweet of your lips one last time, some gustatory reminder to store away with letters to old girlfriends and pictures of high school. A beautiful little ribbon to wrap up the all memories, good and bad. The words hadn’t caught up with my heart yet, so my mouth made up it’s own insufficient version.

When I unloaded on you before your graduation, I told you that I chose that moment because we’d be with others later that night and I didn’t want to involve them in us. (Unlike you, dear reader, who, if uninterested, can simply look away.) While true, I somehow felt it difficult to communicate that it was also intentional - that if you want to see my passion, if you want to know my soul, well, shit, it doesn’t always crop up at the opportune time, and right then, it was rearing it’s ugly head. At previous points in our relationship, I’d saved my thoughts and feelings for another time or place more appropriate, for some time that wouldn’t ruin an occasion for you, but now I think that may have contributed to our mis-communications. Last time I waited, it ended with a letter I thought professed how my body revolted with the thought of being without you, yet ended spawning our break up. So, last weekend, you got it unfiltered, unrefined, unorganized, and ill-timed.

I often think back to the time I asked you, “You realize, you have the power to completely destroy me?” and you acknowledged. I wonder if you think about that as well. I wonder if you thought about that before you decided to end it, and how it affected you. In the end, you followed my advice, the advice I give anyone who asks, so I have no justification for complaint: take care of yourself first, make sure you’re strong enough to help yourself before you try to help others. You did what you had to.

I think about that time I was talking to the pretty promotional girl at the bar, thinking that if in some parallel universe her and I were to fall in madly love, I would stay with you, because from the first kiss, I committed to you.

I never told you that. Let me repeat it: before our first kiss in my bedroom, I committed myself completely to you. We’d known each other for nine years already, and I told myself that this was embarking on a serious journey, not to be taken lightly, not just the prelude to a roll in the hay. I was completely off the the market. When you accepted the kiss, I signed my contract. I’ve never done that before. I did what I had to do.

One week later, we each said, “I love you.”

I’m posting this here, instead of communicating it personally, because I don’t want you to feel you have to respond. You don’t. I would love it if you chose to, but this is the shit I have to deal with, it’s not your responsibility.

And friends, if you don’t want to read this depressive tripe, then don’t. But I’m getting tired of repeating the “what happened” and “how are things now ” and “how are you holding up” discussions many times over, which I suppose is a good sign, but ultimately just serves to keep my mind focused on A-, which is unhealthy in such magnificient doses. So, when we’re hanging out, while I appreciate the concern, don’t bring up A-, or my relation to her. I’ve rolled that around in my head for a month straight, in both daylight and sleep - realize that’s over 700 hours - and if I want to bring it up, I will, but right now, I’m trying to find myself in relation to the rest of the world again, and that includes you, friends.