Boo hoo bloddy blue.

So, the way I see it, there are a couple of different ways I can emotionally deal with this.

First, you know, I can go to that party, and everyone will see me, and they'll be all like "Oh, hey, Bill's here. Wonder how he's doing?" I'll walk around and be jovial and crack jokes and everyone will be surprised and then accept it and say "Huh, I guess he's OK." Then, as the night goes on, I'll act more and more ridiculous. It'll be as if I'm just acting like the life of the party at first, but then people will realize that I'm going out of my way to keep things hilarious. Eventually, people will dread my presence, and when I come up to them and launch into the Funny Bill Act, there will be a lot of uncomfortable awkward giggling, and I, of course, just won't get it. At 4am, my best friend will catch me up on the roof of the apartment building, looking up at the full moon, singing "Who needs the Kwik-E-Mart? I do..."

Yeah, so that's one option.

I feel slightly better today. Distance is good for time to think. And time to think is what this is all about.

Thanks for all the well wishes and unsolicited advice. You Diaryland freaks are cool.

I still don't know ultimately what will happen. We both want our cakes and want to eat them, too. As Sally said, it would be nice if we could see each other exclusively while dating other people at the same time. Insert your own overwrought metaphor here. I just rejected about 73 of them.

I also decided to keep things sacred, which means I won't be writing out the dirty details of it all here, for a while at least. It just tends to confuse. Sally reads this, so, it's a bit like breaking up with your girlfriend and then calling her and saying "Man, I just broke up with my girlfriend! Listen to this!" Also, it's just sick to whore out my personal pain just so I can write a fucking entry.

So, the only things known at this time: There is missing. There is loving. There is uncertainty.

And that's all you get to know about that until further notice. Bastards.

Can you believe that this is what it takes to get James to send me my three fucking dollars?