There is this file named after M in the home directory of my server. I stumble across it now and then. It’s an email I somehow saved, I’m not sure how or why, because I use google apps for my mail and all that.

Just keep being you, I’m pretty fond of you that way.

It’s fucking strange. It’s so happy, but without looking it’s days before we broke up. As I read it I think that M felt guilt and pressure about being good enough for me. I think about J speculating about her feeling like she didn’t deserve me. I think about M talking about my being remarkable and K speaking of the wonderful things I do. And I go back and read it again and think. I’m so nice in this email. Happy, and nice, and eager about the future and making everything work out. And I think of A asking me where I learned to communicate so well. And I know, from all of this, I couldn’t have done a thing about any of it.

I haven’t known what to say since I’ve returned home. An entire life was squeezed into a few weeks between two others. The current one is only a couple of days old and has been spent getting used to the new technology (mac book pro), culture (foosball) and coffee shops (cherry street!) around my new job. I’ve been keeping my schedule open to decide what to place back in it. Cyclocross starts this weekend.

K and I rode with .83 last night and friends wondered with me how long it had been. I recalled that M + J showed up at the start of the last ride and took off, and realized it was the ride three months ago where M was at the prefunk, where I drank heavily, and spent the rest of the ride sitting alone at the bars drinking water, watching the tv, and thinking about where to go from there. That’s when I started the effort to change my social life. I did drink once this past week. It the midst of a social drinking culture I allowed myself to go out for the big burn on Saturday and drink with friends, although I didn’t feel at all like drinking the next day. This is fine. I rarely crave whiskey any longer, I just feel awkward and out of place in these social situations. Anyway, it was a good ride in circles around downtown between Westlake and 9 Million. We left early to ride to Georgetown and lay around. We watched a movie, Star Trek, and I thought about how long it had been out. As I watched for K’s approval of the movie I was reminded of my birthday near opening day of the movie, and my hopes to have had shared that moment with M. I’m glad my birthday was shared with friends and family this year, as I realize the last few were tainted with heartbreak and death.

I had a great conversation with K about not knowing what lies between those I am in love with whom I can’t work out a relationship with, and those who I’ve loved that are special to me that I could have worked out a relationship with but did not feel right about it. Of course, I can’t explain exactly what right is. So it’s good to have had that conversation and agreed that life is about working through these things with other people. This feels starkly different than M. I feel good about it.

I’m not convinced that I’ll feel better if I don’t drink. How do I say that right? Moderation? I’m over thinking this and it hurts.