Two years after my soul mate left, I was living far away from the place we had met, working as a bartender.
One day (Saturday, August 20, 1988), after acting a little more "light-hearted" than of one of my coworkers could tolerate, I wrote:
"Sometimes it's a relief to realize that you are not well-liked by certain people. The sinking feeling that results is almost like being punched in the face: It hurts at first, but then numbness sets in. You can feel good about being alone after making such a discovery.
"She sent me into exile; but the more I feel rejected by all others the more the exile hurts. I had the one person who loved me for simply being me, and now I have to hate her if I wish to survive with what little is left of my sanity. I also hate myself, but it manifests itself in my lack of interest in my unpopularity -- or, rather, in the unpopularity of some of my actions (I just don't know how to be serious around anyone anymore). She left me to my own devices, and I am sinking under their weight. Oh well. Many, many lives have been lived meaninglessly, so I won't feel too unique in my failure to harmonize with anyone else. In the meantime I am alone, and suddenly it hurts again."
