I feel so normal today.  I feel so normal.  Recovered.  Relieved.  Peaceful.  I felt as though I needed to cry last night, in relief, but I was so tired, I just fell asleep and into those nightmares.
    I still feel like I need to cry now, but it won't come.  Usually, when I take a shower, I just stand there in the water wondering what the fuck happened to me, and why the hell I'm still alive.  I sit down on the little ledge, immobile, and let the hot water come down on me, and I ask myself where the meaning is, what is the purpose, and how do I get out of this hole.  Usually.  Lately.  Not today.
    Today I was Happy.  I was happy and it looked good.
    
    So, we lay there in bed, and I told Rebar my fears, and he reassured me.  He won't just vanish on me now.  He didn't understand why I am relieved.  And he is guilt torn now, thinking that his involvement in my life is going to keep me from forming a healthy, mutual relationship with someone else.
    "But you deserve to be with someone who can give you all their love."
    "But is that right?  I can't give anybody all my love."
    We both know we have dead zones within us where love isn't capable of growing, and we both know we are lost, looking for some kind of redemption.  We both know things, we are the same species.  We talked a lot about what I deserve.  Well, you know what?  I deserve to be happy, and I deserve to get what I want.  And if I believe that happiness for me is living alone, doing whatever I want to do, and taking comfort in my close friends when the time is right, then goddammit, that is what I deserve.  I happen to know what makes me happy and what makes me miserable and it should be my own choosing how to live.
    "So, we need a new deal," I said.
    "So, what's the deal?"
    "We'll keep being friends."
    "But that was the old deal."
    "Well, the new deal doesn't have a 'never' in it."
    "How about a 'rarely?'"
    "I can live with that."
    I know it's hard to see what all the fuss is about.  It's only sex, and sex you can get anywhere, right?  Oh, no, sweet darling, making love with Rebar is the most exquisitely beautiful thing in the universe.  Inhaling his breath, warm and moist from his lungs, is more delightful than the most elaborate meal.  Being held in his arms feels better than the most modern new roller coaster, and his kisses are droplets of celestial light.  Living without these, without any hope of these, is very, very hard.  If years pass before I get to have them for myself again, then the years pass happily.  There is such a huge difference between "rarely" and "never."  And the difference is hope.
    
    So, we made love again, and that was just as good as before.  He prepared to leave, and was worried that I might sink into despair again, that I might get drunk and cut myself again.  He really didn't understand.  I feel repaired, not damaged all over again.  I feel ready to conquer the rest of my life.
    As soon as I get a nap.  Boy, am I tired.