I had a pretty miserable day today. I woke up from having a pretty intense nightmare in which I was being chased and hunted by a pack of lunatics set on killing me for sport. I remember vividly trying to find means with which to escape and get out alive, fighting for survival, even dangling from an endless crevice at one point. Needless to say, it was a pretty restless sleep.

When I finally did wake up, it was scorching hot in my room. The temperature of the weekend has been pretty unbearable. The rest of the day was spent cleaning out my room some more for the inevitable move. Slowly but surely, things are getting either packed or tossed. It's amazing how much crap I've accumulated over the years.

While digging through my old keepsakes, I came across some old notes and cards that I've received from people. Friends. My ex girlfriends. It's pretty strange reading something that someone wrote years ago. I came across a note in which my ex wrote to me before we ever hooked up, at the stage when we were still friends. It was weird seeing how simplistic we regarded each other before things such as feelings got in the way and complicated everything.

I also came across a note that was written to me in high school by one of my close friends.

Your gentle manners characterize the epitome of gallantry.
Keep smiling, keep giggling, and above all, keep your youth.

Gentle manners don't seem to pay off in the real world. Nice guys end up last, and those who aren't aggressive fail to attain their dreams. I sat there wondering if the person who wrote this remembers ever writing such eloquent words to describe me? I thought back to how I've changed over the years. With age has come the heartbreaks and the losses, and I feel like I've aged a lifetime since then. I've lost the innocence of youth. How I long for a simpler time when the world wasn't so tough and being happy was a common occurrence.

I faced the rest of the day feeling quite down. I somehow suspected that we wouldn't talk today because of our conversation last night, and I miss hearing your voice. I don't know what to do. Do you want me out of your life? Would it have been better for you if I never reached back out to you, to open up my heart to you? I wish I had the answer for everything, but it's all become so complicated. Whoever wrote the saying that love conquers all must not have had any problems. It seems that in reality, love can't really conquer anything.

You want me to move on and not wait around for something that will never come. I wish there were someone I could talk to, someone I could open up to and pour my heart out. But no. I'm alone. I've always been alone...

You felt like we needed a nice long talk tonight about where we are right now. Basically you told me that you're so comfortable around me, that you can only see me as a friend, and that you don't ever want to lead me on. *Sigh* I guess it is my destiny after all to never be able to hold you in my arms. It hurts because I thought we were getting to know each other more, growing closer with each passing day. I thought that maybe, just maybe, I could fill that role as a boyfriend that would also be your best friend. But I guess somewhere along the way, I crossed that invisible threshold where you could no longer see me as anything else.

All my efforts seem to be for naught. Sometimes I wonder if I try too hard. It's not like anything I do seems to affect how you view me anyway, so why bother? I don't know, at this point, I'm just sitting here feeling entirely deflated.

What am I to do now? It's not like I can force you to fall in love with me as I have with you. I'd like to think that my problems are unique, that I'm the only one suffering heart break out there, but the sad fact is that I'm not. Many countless stories of unreciprocated love exists, and I just need to accept it. I tell myself, rationalizing it, that unreciprocated love is much more bearable than unrequitedly love.

I don't know what to do. Everyone seems to think I have everything figured out, that I'm this guy who knows what he wants in life and is settled in his ways. And yet the harsh reality is that I'm nothing more than a lost soul seeking his long lost soul mate. I need to get away from it all. To disappear. I wonder how you would feel if you woke up one day and I was no longer here. No longer in your life. Would you ever look back and reconsider, see me in some sort of different light? To think of me as the guy who loved you so so much and yet some how you let slip away?

So M took this picture of me when we were at Disneyland a few weeks ago, cruising the Rivers of America. See the look of contemplation in my eyes? Haha, I guess not since I'm wearing sunglasses. As I was standing there enjoying the clear breeze, I couldn't help but imagine being on some far off safari, traveling the exotic locations of the world. I pictured you there beside me and I longed to be able to just hold you in my arms as the gentle winds and warm sun enveloped us. To not have a care in the world, just watching as the world slowly passed us by, lost in our own moment. I really am a dreamer aren't I? I feel like I'm so out of place in this world, that what I view as the ideal romance just doesn't exist anymore. It's tough being idealistic when I know too well the harsh reality of how the world works. What I've envisioned is nothing more than a fool's dream, a enigmatic hope that doesn't get filled in this day and age.

Despite all that I've learned about you, I still feel as if there's a part of you that you haven't opened up to me. How I long to get into your deepest trusts, to have you confide in me when you need to talk, to feel the spiritual connection that would indicate to me that I'm so much more.

Sometimes when we talk, we hit this lull in the conversation, a silence. Generally I'm ok with comfortable silences, but I'm unsure of what you're thinking of the moment. Are you bored? Are you trying to think of something to say? Or are you looking for the opportunity to get off the phone? I must admit that I still get nervous talking to you. I wish I were at the point where I was at ease with you, like you are with me.

I've been told that I should let you go. That because of our differences, you'll never see me as anything more than a friend and that I should face the realities of our situation. But how can I when I dreamt of nothing else for so long now? It's been said that love never dies, only hope. Is that my destiny?

I haven't felt the urge to write anything lately, and I'm pretty sure it's because I hadn't heard from you in a while. You seem to be my muse, an inspiration for my daily expositions. I feel so silly complaining that I miss you so when it's only been a week since I last heard your voice, and yet I do. I can think of nothing more profound and more enjoyable than a cozy afternoon conversing with you about silly nothings. And our endless phone tag sessions just makes me yearn for you even more, if that were even possible.

But I realized that even without any motivation, I should still write down my thoughts with increased frequency, if nothing more than to preserve my thoughts at the moment. This came about because when we last talked, we came across the subject of how I see you. You said that it's hard to trust my view of you now as I'm totally subjective, and I offered my opinions of when we first met as a more reasonable judgment. And yet the minute I brought it up, I realized that I didn't have much of my experiences written down back then to support me. I thought I did, but looking back, there's not much substance there. Not as much as I would like at least. And much of what I thought of you was writing in e-mails and in conversations with friends. In fact, my introspections didn't really start until I starting writing in this online journal, albeit the older version. Would you take my views of you early 2002 as proof?

Probably not, which is why I didn't mention it further. Besides, I don't know how I'd ever act around you if you found this site, not that I have anything to hide, but that I'd feel so exposed. I really wish you would believe me though when I say that I've always thought you to be beautiful, because I remember getting in arguments with my friends about you. There was this one time, Hombre and I were sitting at lunch going over who we thought was the most beautiful girl out of all our friends. Needless to say, I said it was you. It's silly looking back now, how immature and shallow we guys were, but I remember that I rated you a 9 out of 10, seeing you as possessing both a radiant outer beauty as well as tremendous inner beauty. In fact, if you were to have a flaw back then, it was that you didn't think highly enough of yourself. I always wished that you could see yourself the way that I saw you.

So in the process of digging through my old files looking for any comments I made about you, I went through some old e-mail, and I found all your old messages to me. I've kept them all, even the first one you ever sent me. In fact, yours is one of the oldest folders I have out of all my friends. I wonder if that would mean anything to you if you knew that I've always had the need to hold on to them. Anyway, I was reading a bit on what you wrote about your hopes for love, and it brought me back so many years to when we were first getting to know each other.

With the union of two people,
they are joined in heart, mind, body, and soul....
they thereby, become one together, in each other...
he is she and she is he...

You spoke with such idealism that it moves me still. In so many ways, you haven't changed at all. I also came across the incident where I gave you a heart as a gift one day, only to have you return it to me on a late Friday night as we walked around the school. As I read your words trying to explain yourself, I relive the heart break which I felt that night. But it was actually perfect, because it helped me understand you more. And I tell myself that one day in the future, when you're ready, then I'm going to get another opportunity to give you my heart, and this time you'll hold close inside you.

It's getting late and I should really be sleeping, but I now that I've started writing, I find it hard to stop. I'm pretty sure you're just about to wake up, getting ready for your next trip. It's hard on me every time you leave because I don't get to hear from you. And yet it's easier knowing that you're away and unable to talk rather than unwilling to talk. My friends have asked me what I thought of you traveling all the time, how little we get to see each other. How can anything ever develop that way? But it's ok. Your work is important and I always want to be supportive of you in every way. Just because you're away doesn't diminish my feelings for you. And just because we're moving slowly doesn't mean we're not moving. The best things come to those who wait, and you're well worth it all.

Good night and sweet dreams. May you have a safe and pleasant trip. Missing you always...