Time marches on without me. After this weekend, I really don't know where to begin. Some wounds were healed, others deepened. I've decided to call it emotionally taxing.

I guess that the obvious place to start would be with Steve. Why is it that the more impossible something becomes, the more you want it? I think that I've come closer to loving him in the past two days than I ever did while we were dating. It was pretty hard seeing him. I like to think that I'm fairly emotionally detached, and I was proven dead wrong. It was like breaking up all over again, but harder this time because I wasn't just numb. I've decided that my problem is this: He's not strong enough to handle the distance, and I'm not strong enough to just quit cold turkey. I feel like I need him, and I hate needing anybody. He seemed to feel it necessary to reassure me that I would find some one and everything would be alright. I think he completely misread me. I'm not afraid that there's no one else out there for me. I just don't want to have to do without him.

Something that was wonderful about this weekend was seeing Vanessa, and just getting to talk to her. I'm mystified by how much our lives have in common some times. I feel like I've regained a limb by having her close to me again. I know that I'm a terrible person sometimes, and as much as the change in our relationship finds its roots in Kris, I know that I'm hugely to blame. Now I can finally have the homecoming, and it's beautiful.

Now that I've graduated and have that Alumni plate on my car, it was finally time to have a drunken Picnic Day. I got embarrassingly drunk, and have grounds to apologize to Joe and his friends for the show they received. In my inebriation, I felt it necessary to kiss one of my friends to prove that he was gay rather than bi. I think that everyone was entertained, but it was still not too excusable. I take solace in the fact that this is absolutely the only wild tom foolery in which I've participated due to alcohol. I would also wish that I'd had less to drink so that I could remember more of the rest of the day. Alas, that is not to be.

So now here I am. Back at work. I spent the weekend feeling/acting my age, now I'm 30 again. The final reason this trip was emotionally taxing is that, when all's said and done, I still had to come back to work on Monday, to the job I hate, in the town where I have very few friends. It was nice to rewind for a time, but now I have to deal with reality. The scary part is realizing that I may have already lived the best years of my life, and that the future is downhill from here. That's likely just the post-grad slump talking, but at the moment it feels very true.