(Someone just pointed out that I've already used the title for this entry, a long time ago. I don't remember a rule where we can't use the same title more than once, so I'm not changing it.)

First, a story. A true story.

Back in the third grade, we had this new kid show up for school one day. Just a regular new kid, from Philadelphia. Almost immediately, I felt a connection with him. I was just positive that I knew him from somewhere and, more than that, I was sure that we were friends.

He was a nice enough guy, and we did become friends of a sort. One time I asked him if we'd ever met before. He told me that he'd lived in Philly his whole life so no, we'd never met before.

So this guy and I ended up going through the rest of our school years together, talking when we had the same classes, one year when our lockers were adjacent, but otherwise he was just a guy I knew, and I'm sure that's all I was to him.

But I never forgot that feeling I'd had when I first saw him standing next to the teacher and getting introduced to the class. That feeling that I knew him. This was no stranger at all. There was never a doubt in my mind that I'd seen this guy before.

So twenty years go past. It's June 2004 and I'm sitting at The Tilted Kilt bar in Las Vegas and end up talking with the guy sitting next to me. He also seems oddly familiar, and it turns out that there's a damn good reason this time.

It's the same guy. He's in Las Vegas for the same conference.

We get to bullshitting and catching up. The guy has had a much tougher life than I have, but he seems to be coping with it very well. At one point I tell him about how, back when he was new at my school, I'd been positive that I knew him from somewhere.

I realize that I'm starting to ramble a bit here, but I'm getting to the strange part.

It turns out that the guy hadn't lived his whole life in Philadelphia before he moved to Georgetown.

He'd actually been born in New Albany.

In the town where I was born.

In the same hospital.

On the same day.

An hour after I was born.

His family had moved East a few weeks after he was born, and so I didn't see him for another eight years, but I had seen him before. We'd been in the same maternity ward at the same time, on the day that we were born.

Pretty weird, huh?

Those feelings I had back in third grade turned out to have an explanation after all. Not the most believable one, perhaps, but one that I can accept because I have to accept it. Kind of hard to argue with the facts when they're right in front of me. I saw this kid the day I was born, and a part of me remembered him eight years later.

About a year and a half ago I saw another person. I may have mentioned her a couple of times in this 'blog. What I don't think I've mentioned here is that, by the third time I talked to her - and the first conversation of any length, I had feelings that were very similar to those I'd had about the kid in the third grade. This time, though, the feelings were much stronger, and much more specific.

I know this girl. She is important to me. More important than anyone else. Her happiness is vital to my own happiness.

I guess I'm talking about love at first sight here. Weird, because I never really believed in that, at least not before I saw her that evening at Rich O's, clutching her laptop . Meeting her is where that particular belief was born.

This was no everyday crush. This was not a crush at all. It was more, much more than that. It was everything. It was something that simply was and I had no explanation for it.

Still don't.

I remember wondering, back when I was a kid, if the guy from Philly and I had known each other in a past life or something. Not that I believed in any of that shit. It just seemed like a better explanation, or at least one that was easier to accept than the one wherein I was insane.

I still don't believe in reincarnation, but if it ever turns out to be real, then I absolutely guarantee that I knew her before. She was important to me before. More important than anyone else. Her happiness was vital to my own.

I guess some things never change.

Just some pictures that I cleaned out of my phone.

This is the Baltika beer I had the other night. I didn't say these would be interesting pictures.

Happy and Buddy have these staring contests all the time. Here, Buddy is trying to use his laser vision to force Happy off of his favorite lounging spot.

For a while, they crammed both of their fat asses onto the coffee table.

Eventually Happy moved to the floor, allowing Buddy to stretch out.

Just updated the FAQ page after an e-mail exchange I had today. I'd have to say that this FAQ entry was long overdue, because I get asked these questions a lot - usually the questions are followed by accusations of retardation and/or drunkenness, but this particular person was quite nice about it.

Meanwhile, I've actually had a couple of pretty good days at work. This is quite rare, and it kinda makes me a little paranoid.

Also, I have an idea for an entry, but I'm unsure if it should be posted or not. I'm going to sleep on it for a while.

You know, I don't think I'm going to write anything today.

Except this, that is.

I'm in a pretty good mood, and want to stay that way.

Okay, so you want to know the reason. I ramble on and on and then I just rush through the ending and I never reveal the reason that I'll hurt you.

Here's a little secret: Right here, right now, I don't know the fucking reason. Oh, I have some suspicions, but nothing concrete.

I'm not even sure, right here, right now, that there is one single thing that I could point to and say "That there. That's why we cannot be together. That's why I'm so fucked up that I won't let myself have what I want most in the world."

Maybe I don't know because it'll be different each time. Maybe I'll wait until that final conversation to think of something to tell you.

That's probably it. I'll open my mouth and start rambling, and as I say the words they'll become reality.

But don't worry that you'll be short-changed. Whatever I come up with, I'm sure it'll be good and convincing. You'll believe it and, by then, so will I. Everybody will be equally unsatisfied.

But you know, there is a way out of this trap. A way out beside running I mean. It's actually pretty simple in concept, but I guess it's more difficult in execution, because there's only been one so far. And I can't really count her. Okay, maybe there have been two, but I still can't count either of them.

Just dazzle me.

Just be so wonderful, so astonishing and so fascinating that there's no room in me for doubt, or for fear, or for terror. Just be so bright that the only thing I can see is you. But make sure that you do it soon, before I get too complacent. For once that happens, I'll start to think. And that is where the trouble starts.

Don't give me a chance to think.

Just enchant me. Overwhelm me. I dare you.

This scares the Hell out of me.

Plague-infected cats cause worry in Wyoming

Eleven months ago, my body started having a problem with alcohol.

It seems to be coming back. Over the last week, I've turned into even more of a lightweight than normal.

Tonight I had myself an NABC Cone Smoker, followed by about three-quarters* of one of these:

Baltika 6 Porter

(bottle) I was quite impressed by this. An aroma that I can only describe as chocolately-grapey. A flavor that stayed with me from the time my lips touched it to the time I swallowed - in other words, consistently good. Quite yummy. I wish I'd had another one.

That was it. I'd had enough. So I ended up getting home way before 10:00.

I'm in a fairly shitty mood, but not for my normal reasons. Tonight I just found myself thinking about some problems that friends and family are having, and I realized that I just don't give a shit. No matter how much I try to care, no matter how obvious it is that I should care, I just don't

I am, as I've said before, a horrible person.

When I was a kid I took a golf ball apart. There was the rubbery outer layer, then about a zillion miles of rubbery string, then a hard rubber core.

If you were to take me apart right now, I'd at first seem to be a lot like that ball.

A fairly innocuous outer layer covering a much more complex layer.

But the similarity would end when you got to the core.

I don't seem to have one.

What I have, at the very center of my being, is a hollow space.

This annoys me, because I feel like a fairly normal person, I look like a fairly normal person. But deep inside I guess I'm some kind of zombie or something.

My soul, that part of me around which everything should be based, has shrunk to nothing. Beaten and ridiculed, it has curled into a little ball so tight that it may never be whole again.

I've been going about this, my healing, the wrong way. I've been working from the outside in. I act like I'm a person so people will think I'm a person, then I start to feel like I'm a person, but deep inside there's nothing. At the center of my being I am still nothing. My rebirth was but an illusion.

So how do I start over? How do I rebuild myself from the inside out?

I have no idea, and it bothers the Hell out of me.

Or at least it would, if I had a soul to be bothered.

* - I had the word "questers" here instead of "quarters" all night. What a dumbass I am.

When you see me for the first time, you won't pay much attention. Just an average guy, doing average stuff. Sitting at the bar drinking a beer. Boring, really.

But if you're bored enough yourself, you might keep looking. Maybe there's something about me that you're curious about. Maybe it's that I look a little sad. Maybe you think I look out of place. Or like I'm waiting for something. Or maybe dreading something. Or maybe I'm just the only other person in the place.

I'll catch you looking at me, and I'll give a little smile. You'll quickly look away.

The next time you see me, you'll smile first and I'll frown and then smile back. It takes me a second to recognize you, and this bothers you a little. You can also tell that you're not who I was hoping to see come in.

This is the point when you should run away.

But if you don't run, if you stay, if you keep coming back, eventually you'll find yourself talking with me. We'll talk about the weather, the crowd, the beer. We'll learn each other's names and even shake hands. We'll have a pleasant conversation about nothing much in particular. I seem friendly enough. It's nice to meet new people.

After a while, we'll start to look for each other when we go to the bar. Just a couple of regulars that know each other. I'll save you a seat. You'll sit with me and we'll talk about our days and our lives while we drink our beers and watch the other people. We both like people watching.

You should definitely get out now. While you still can.

But if you don't get out, if you stay, if you keep coming back, things will start to change. We'll still sit together and talk. We'll still laugh at each other's jokes. We'll feel more and more comfortable around each other. But things will be starting to change. I'll be looking at you a lot more often. Stealing glances. I'll look at your hands a lot, while my own hands twitch but remain stationary. I'll sit a little closer to you, so I can feel your body heat, maybe sneak a whiff of your hair. I'll watch you sway when you walk to the bathroom. You probably won't even notice.

But I'll notice. And I'll start to be afraid. This can't be happening again.

Others will notice too. They'll see me looking at you. They'll see us together all the time. They'll start to see us instead of me and you. They'll start to assume that the things I've only just started to imagine are actually true. That we're a couple now. They'll probably think we look good together. Happy.

It's almost too late. You really should leave now.

But if you don't leave, if you stay, if you keep coming back, you'll start to notice things. The way I look for you the instant I walk in. How relieved I am when I see you. How quiet I get when you talk to another guy.

What you won't see is how disappointed I am when I come in and don't see you. How, a lot of those times, I'll just turn around and leave. How, when I do stay, I jerk my head up every time I hear a woman's voice. What you won't know is that, while you go to the bar to hang out with your friends and have a good time, I go there for a different reason.

I go there to see you.

By this time, I'll be starting to fight what's going on inside me. I'll be telling myself that I've learned my lesson well, that I there's no way I'll fall into the same trap again.

Seriously, get the fuck away from me. It's for your own good, and mine as well.

But if you don't get the fuck away from me, if you stay, if you keep coming back, you'll definitely start to notice. How I won't even look at you while we're talking, but I'll steal glances every time you turn away for even an instant. You'll start carrying most of our conversations, because I'm afraid to say anything lest I blurt out my feelings. You'll notice these things, but you won't talk about them with me. You'll think I'm angry at you over something, but you won't be able to figure out what. Maybe you'll even start to suspect the truth, but you certainly won't want to talk about that with me. You won't want to risk our friendship with any romance. Besides, what if you're wrong?

Our time together will become more and more quiet. You'll try to tell yourself that we're just growing more comfortable with each other. That we can be silent. That there's no need for us to just blather on and on. We're friends, after all. There's no rule that says we have to fill every moment with conversation.

This is when the last one left. You should follow that example.

But if you don't follow that example, if you stay, if you keep coming back, then I'll reach a point where I can no longer be in the same room with you. I'll think about you constantly. I'll miss you when I'm not with you, yet suffer when I am with you. Being your friend will not only be just not good enough, it will become impossible. What used to be relief at seeing you will turn into disappointment. My smile will disappear. The others will start to talk. They'll figure that we've had a fight. A big one from the looks of it. Some of them will try to help.

They'll ask me what's wrong, but I won't want to talk about it. How can I tell them what I haven't even told you? They're not important to me. What they think is not important to me. What's important to me is that I'm reeling, that I'm desperate to keep from hurting you, but I can't see any way around it. It's inevitable now.

This is your last chance to escape.

But if you don't escape, if you stay, if you keep coming back, then I'll be the one to leave. I'll simply stop coming to the bar. It will be too painful for me to be with you but not with you. I'll be afraid to say goodbye, terrified of what that could lead to. I'll just stop coming. I'll know that you'll be hurt by this, but I'll also know that to tell you the truth would hurt you even more. Since you won't leave, I will.

But you'll miss me. You'll ask people what happened to me. Eventually someone will tell you. Or maybe you'll figure it out on your own. But you won't quite want to believe it. You'll be sure that I'm just mad at you over something, and you'll want the chance to talk it over.

You'll call me and ask for an explanation. I'll be unable to refuse, but I'll insist on telling you in person. Some things just aren't said over the phone. So we'll agree to meet that night.

You'll be sitting in your regular place in the bar, but I'll know that we'll need privacy. I'll take your hand and pull you off to a quiet corner. I'll ask the waiter to give us some time, and I'll take both of your hands into mine. I'll look you in the eyes for the first time in months.

I'll tell you the truth. I'll tell you that I love you, that I don't know how I can possibly live without you, but that I must live without you.

Your heart will skip a beat. A million thoughts will go though your head. You'll try to see me, for the first time, as something more than a friend. You'll imagine us together, and you'll like how that image makes you feel.

So you'll take a breath, and you'll laugh, and you'll tell me that you love me too. Then you'll realize what I've just said. You'll ask me why I feel that I must live without you. You'll already be preparing to counter whatever I say.

I won't lie to you. You'll deserve the truth. I'll tell you that no matter how much I love you, how much I long to be with you, that there is no way that we can ever be together. I'll tell you why. I'll tell you everything. It will take a long time to tell you, but finally I'll finish.

You'll start to protest, but something in my eyes will tell you that I'm telling the truth. You'll realize now, after all these months, why I looked sad when you first saw me. You'll realize that there is something bigger than me and you, bigger even than us that's standing between us. And you'll see that I'm right. I cannot be your friend, and I cannot be anything more. You'll see that I'm taking the only choice left to me.

So you'll remove your hands from mine, get up, and walk away to cry in private.

I told you to leave. You had plenty of chances.

But you won't have left, you will have stayed, you will have kept coming back, and you'll end up wishing that you'd never even met me.

They say that a picture is worth a thousand words.

To this picture of Piper Perabo, my July 9th Hottie of the Day, I'll add one more.

Wow.