What’s really sad about the situation with R? I probably don’t even remember the issues we were having — whether it was Sandi wanting to say too much on their websites or discussions, or if i was the one saying too much; i don’t remember. I guess it doesn’t matter, because R does not seem that interested in being friends again anyway.

They’ve moved on with their life; i suppose i should move on with mine.

Recently I’ve started rereading the Rabbit novels from John Updike, starting with Rabbit Run (1960). Part of my strategy for dealing with the world is to make up a little stories to myself to explain why things are the way they are. And reading Updike again, maybe i think my friend took their non-binary name from the Rabbit series. Or not. At least it’s worth thinking about.

Ten months ago, my wife died. Our cat, Ojo, just had to be put to sleep today; and i’ve spent most of the day crying. It’s almost as if Sandi still lived on through that cat, and she didn’t actually die until today. It’s just been a year of mourning, and i’m worn out from it.

Maybe i can never move on. Maybe i’m just as stuck as lots of other people are — manacled to the past — as they drag it along behind them. Maybe this is it, and the rest of my life will just be dragging all the wreckage behind me.

At least most days shouldn’t be as bad as this one.

I wonder if other people feel held back by their past; i’ll have to ask, if i ever happen to meet any again. Maybe i don’t want to ever meet anyone again. Maybe i am done. Would certainly simplify the hell out of things i was done.

All right, that’s enough.