I came home last night to drunks and stoners, they were with my sister, I didn't mind, I was just tired from the long drive home. The whole time I was wondering where love goes when it just disappears like that, or where it stays when it still exists but it just cannot happen. Who dictates these rules? I feel like if I just tore down every rule about love in existence and just did whatever I wanted, just kidnap people who are doomed to be unhappy and put them with people that will make them happy, a very lovely Christmas shared by all of us, put down in the journal and into the photobooks, that I would finally feel fulfilled.

But that week in Arizona was very fulfilling, and really, the best week I've ever had.

The week after that I drove to Seattle and just got back two days later because my best friend Alan went to visit his girlfriend and she broke up with him the second night we were there. We did go to a Beatles and Led Zeppelin laser light show, which was very fantastic and I wish Laura could've been there, but it wasn't enough. Seattle had a dreary color scheme and a portly city theme and a lot of people with no dreams and well, the clouds there were nonexistant. Nothing was enough in Seattle. Fuck Seattle. I say that because u-turns are illegal there.

"George went to Washington. Hahahahahaha" - Laura the bear (coal MINER)

Midway through the drive up and midway through the drive down we found ourselves in a state called Oregon. Oregon, which is called the "trees and old people state", didn't quite live up to our Californian taste, so we decided to come back and destroy it. But the air is nice, and the people were actually very nice, so maybe we should rethink that.

A week before Seattle, and then another week before that I went to Las Vegas. The part that made me the happiest was playing pool with my sister and my mom and seeing how happy my mom was when she won. Nothing else about that stupid city mattered.

About two years and three months before that I met who I felt for a strong while was the love of my life. We didn't quite get to two years before we decided it wasn't working out. I don't think I decided anything, and I had a very bizarre way of showing how I felt. I look back on everything with remorse even though that is a bad way of doing things, it makes me feel better in some strange way. I feel like a kite with a thousand knots in its string, and finally someone decided to come along and just let me loose. I feel like I'm happy, unlimited choices and unlimited breeze, but I'm just confused. I never really cried once during those two years, except when she told me she had cheated on me (but that didn't really matter in the long run), and I never really thought about anything. I was the one that actually decided to stop this relationship, as the talk of marriage and commitment was very scary.

Two years three months and four days from today, I looked at Dasha while we swung from a bench held up high by a hill with quite charming splendor. I kissed the top of her head and said "your hair tastes like cardboard". I laughed and she laughed and probably thought I was a jerk, but I didn't care at all. A few weeks into our relationship we stopped at a traffic light and I told her she looked like Richard Nixon in the moonlight. One time at a St. Patrick's Day Festival we rode the tiniest train imaginable, and we all looked like fools but we were happy about it. Funnel cakes made the transition easier.

What really bothers me is this:
Is it all really worth it? I've decided over and over again no, a relationship that is more than just platonic but less than completely sexual is the perfect balance. I found that with my friend in Arizona and it made me happier than anything. But when you have the second one too soon, it seems to obliterate everything. I had the first, more than just platonic, learning about a person for two years and now I feel like the snowglobe that all those memories were stored in was just thrown against a wall and all I can do is either be upset or walk over to the wall and start cleaning everything up. And I have, I'm working on it desperately, but with what happened with Alan, one of my closest friends confused and lifeless, nothing truly makes sense.

Except that I do want to spend Christmas with all of my closest friends and family. And I do want to marry that special person one day, and it does make me happy to think about it but it makes me happier to know that I don't have to worry about it until it happens. I'm more than complacent, I'm infinitely better than that. I have hopes and dreams, realistic and optimistic, and I have people that know me inside and out.

I'm going to be famous someday, I don't care how famous, I just want people to listen with enthusiasm to what I might have to say. And I'll do the same for them.

-george