Gone

Gym. 87.5 kilos (no idea how that could be, unless it was a full digestive track)

Work. Discussion of Bridget Jones. Minus 35 degrees ... most everybody complaining.

I wrote and sent what S. would call my "blackmail" message. She replied very angry.

Then arrived home. Immediately S was on the messenger. Who was "them"? I finally expressed all the anxiety of the long year of 2004, how she tormented me. Bicker, bicker. And then the mystery was solved in a moment of insight. Why - I had done it, myself. It was so weird. The obvious solution -- it kicked me in the nuts as I was explaining in my last pleading crescendo of despair for S to explain all the inconsistencies between what I knew to be true and what she insisted on. And then I realized -- all was explained if I caused it and didn't discover it. And so it is. S is to consult with her medical texts. We talked for a long time. She is still peeved with me. I felt emboldened by the exhaustion and the release to deny that the thing with **** had "just happened". Funny -- we have been on best manners for 18 months and now finally all the masks have slipped a bit.

She said she thinks I like R's body better than hers. So ironic as the reason I refuse to let S go is because I want to drink the nectar of her body again and again. It is a thing of absolute beauty. And, frankly, with all this work and frustration and anxiety and heartache I deserve it!