N is for Nutsack, that's good enough for me!

Okay, I don't know where that came from. Sorry.

I haven't been a very good friend. My hostilities and self-depreciation in this relationship spousal stuff have really gotten in the way of my functioning as a friend. Right now, more than anything in the whole world, A. needs a friend. A good friend. His father is dying. Very 'right now' dying. Not the dying he's been doing over the past year or two.

Today I spent a good hour or so whining (yes, that's what it was, ranting or whining or basically being a snivelling little girl) to Mark about how I was worthless and to blame for everything but the Holocaust. I can't believe I got to that level. I suppose my stress just rose to a point where it really dipped me down. That person that wallowed is not me. Goth bless Mark for having the guts and the concern for me to say, 'No matter how much you believe that right now, it's because you're in a low place, and you will realize, as I realize, that you are not this person and you don't believe these things.' It took about three minutes to wake me up. No, I don't believe these things.

I love A. I love everything about him, not the least of which is his gentle heart. He feels so horribly guilty about everything, about promises to take care of me, about vows and obligations, about what his family will say. If I do one thing for my friend, it will be to make sure he stops feeling guilty about me. I am fine. I am being taken care of (by myself) and I always will be. He needs to do what he needs to do, and I will do what I need to do. There's no room for guilt.

As of three hours ago, my hostility, my relationship angst, my 'what did I do?'s are gone. There is no point to them, and they serve no purpose in my life or in his. I love this boy. He is a dear friend and he needs me. Since when do I turn away people in need?

Since never. Thank you, Mark. I owe you. Again.

Ain't I cute?

I made one of those thingers. Because I'm almost as cool as noog.

It looks like me for the most part, at least right now. I don't usually wear little barrettes in my hair (not like you can see them), but that was the only black-haired bob in the bunch. And yes, that's my natural color, you can all be envious now.

I'm not that thin, but this is virtual, so too bad. And there were no olive cargo pants on the page, so I had to go with big, baggy, camo pants. Rowr. I tend to do the 'tank top with long sleeved shirt over' thing a lot, though.

I think next time I will use the man-maker for my boy days.