…no blog. Sometimes things are just too painful to write about when they’re fresh. You have to get some distance from them first, some time, some objectivity.

As of Monday, I have informed everyone that needed to know. Mark came back and apologized for being such an ass…he’s gone from never wanting to see me again to suggesting we spend some time together and see how it goes. I’m open to that, I think. As long as he stops wallowing in the Sea of Marsha.

And David. Dear, sweet, wonderful David. How could he possibly have been so kind, so concerned…when I gave him the news that I did?? Not that he wasn’t affected. We sat there on the couch wrapped around each other, both of us crying quietly. Actually I wasn’t really so quiet. I’ve never felt more ashamed of anything, ever in my life. The thought that this had affected him was nearly more than I could bear. I had halfway expected him to throw me out of his house. Instead he held me and stroked my hair…telling ME everything would be OK. We fell asleep that way, on the couch with the stereo and lava lamp on. Several hours later David stirred…he took my hand and led me upstairs where we held each other till the sun rose. His last words to me that morning were, It’s going to be OK, Jamie. He was still comforting me. I was overwhelmed by his kindness at that moment, standing there in his garage with bed hair and feeling very undeserving.

How did I end up with someone like that in my life, and why can’t it be more than it is? He’s going to make some girl deliriously happy one day. Too bad that girl isn’t me.