So you jump from one relationship to the next, and eventually you find one that you stick with. One that actually lasts a little while. Time passes, and one day you decide that you're in love.

How fucking convenient. You're in love with the one that you're with. What are the odds of that?

But that's the way it works, isn't it? You take what you can get, and maybe, just maybe, you find yourself having grown so accustomed to another person that you mistake affection for love. Until you get tired of that person, then you decide that you've fallen out of love.

And the cycle repeats.

What a load of steaming horse shit.

I've got something to tell you. Whatever it was that you fell out of, it wasn't love.

Love is when you don't have a choice. Love is when you don't always have weeks or months or years to convince yourself that this time, it's for real. Love is when you deny your feelings, because this can't be happening, because it's too soon, because this person isn't right for me. Falling in love is not a process, it's an event. Love is when a switch inside you suddenly flips on and then breaks off so it can never be switched back.

And the real thing about love, the thing that keeps you awake at night, the thing that makes it the cruelest emotion of all - is that it's not always mutual.

Stings like a bitch, doesn't it?

So just keep playing your little game of relationship hopscotch. Keep telling yourself that eventually you'll find that special someone. And if you don't love that person at first, maybe you'll grow into it, maybe you'll learn to love that person. Maybe that person will learn to love you.

Good luck with that. Really. Everybody plays the same game, so somebody's bound to win every now and then. May as well be you.

Just do me a favor. Don't profess your love when it's a crush, or when it's convenient, or out of guilt, or when it's simply better than being alone. Don't do that.

Because sometimes, sometimes you'll tell me that you love me, and I'll actually believe you.

Happy Birthday to HatGirl! Yay!

If only I could have plucked out my eyes, and sat them on the table beside me, where they'd have an unobstructed view. They could stare forever, never blinking, and never feeling discomfort over their impropriety. "Not my fault," I'd have said. "It's these damn eyes. They seek out what's beautiful. I cannot control them."

If only I could have cut off my hands, and let them explore on their own. Set them free to roam those places where I dared not lead them. "Not my fault," I'd have said. "It's these damn hands. They go where they want to go."

If only I could have peeled off my lips and ripped out my tongue, and let them kiss and taste that which they'd craved for so long. "Not my fault," I'd have said. "That damn mouth, it's like it's got a mind of its own or something."

If only I could have extracted my beating heart, and let it seek out its mate. Let it seek the happiness that I'd forever been unable to provide. "Not my fault," I'd have said. "It's this damn heart. It knows what it wants, and it just goes for it.

If only I could have scooped out my brain, and set it aflame, and chopped it to bits, and smashed those bits into pulp. For it has always been my brain that's held everything else back.

Stupid brain. What a jerk it is. It ruins everything.

It starts with a sound.

Not just any sound, but the sound of a voice from an almost forgotten past. Just a word or two, snaking their way through the din of the crowd. It's not much, but it's enough. I prepare myself, as much as I can anyway.

I think that I'm ready. I believe that I've steeled myself for what will come next. I tell myself that this is what I've been waiting for, that I'm prepared. That I will be strong.

I'm wrong.

I see the sparkles long before I see her. Walls inside me begin to crumble almost immediately. Pressure that has been bottled up for months is suddenly free and unrestrained. Something deep within me is exploding. I cannot prevent it, and I'm suddenly not sure that I want to.

I see her face.

For a fraction of a portion of a second, I am afraid. But the fear is quickly overwhelmed by something else. By desire. By determination. By relief. By the knowledge that the world is finally right again.

I stand up.

My knees are shaking. My heart is pounding. My very soul is shattering and rebuilding at a frantic pace inside me. I take a step, then another. My legs, miraculously, are still amenable to my will. They are no longer a part of me, for I am naught but a heart on fire, but they obey my will nevertheless.

Our eyes meet.

Time stops.

A million eternities pass by in an instant.

I reach out the hand that I somehow still control, and I take hers into it. The circuit between us completes, and it flows with ferocity. Our fingers fuse together.

But it is not enough.

Suddenly aware of the eyes upon us, I crave privacy for what will come next. I pull her through the crowd, then away from the crowd. She resists shyly, more from surprise than anything else. By the time we reach our destination, a dark and empty room, I'm unsure as to who is doing the leading.

We stop. We breathe. We exist. Together. Alone. The heat from her body warms my very bones.

But is it not enough.

I pull her to me and I embrace that part of myself that's been missing for such a long time. I am finally complete. I am finally whole.

But it is still not enough.

I pull my head back, and I open my eyes.

In her eyes I see, not myself, not her, but us. I see everything I've ever sought, and I see a future filled not with pain, but with desire, and with passion, and with hunger for each other.

In her eyes, I see love. Mine. Hers. Ours. It's all the same.

But still it's not enough.

I move my head towards hers.

Our lips meet.

Something is happening. Something different.

I wish I could describe it more clearly than that, but I cannot. Not even to myself.

It's just a feeling, really. An inkling of a hint that something is afoot, that something is skulking around just outside my peripheral vision. I turn to look, but it moves with me, anticipating and evading.

Whatever it is, I don't think I like it very much. Nope, not very much at all.

I awoke at 2:00 feeling severely dehydrated. Now it's 2:47 and I'm on my fourth glass of water.

This reminds me of a funny story I heard at work today.

This guy was telling EwokGirl and me about his aunt or somebody that was told by her doctor that she had to drink 8 glasses of water each day.

So this lady, as soon as she got up every morning, poured 8 glasses of water, and...

...put them in the fridge.

Oh, did you think she drank all 8 glasses first thing in the morning?

Me too!

That would have been a funny story. Instead it's just a stupid one.

...that everybody sucks.

Why I failed to notice this before, I don't know.

Maybe because my rose-colored glasses hid the truth, which is that everybody sucks.

To the approximately three people on Earth that don't suck: You know who you are, and you may safely ignore this entry.

Because I missed all of Saturday night, I knew that the only chance I had of making it through the Saturnalia beer list was to go every day after work and have at least one. My plan was to only have new beers, at least until Rogue Chocolate Stout entered the mix. Then all bets would be off.

That plan isn't going so well.

Monday I had myself a Rogue Hazelnut Brown Nectar (60). I didn't remember having it before, but I had tried it two years ago.

Tonight I started out with a Mahr's Brau Christmas Bock (20), which I've also had before, and which I also didn't remember having before. Neither is a particularly memorable beer, and my failure to recall drinking them before kind of reinforces that point I guess.

I nursed the shit out of the Mahr's until RealTrainGirl showed up. Then, we were having such an enjoyable conversation that, instead of going home for my nap appointment, I had one of these:

Summit Winter Ale (20)

(draft) had a decent flavor, but there wasn't much flavor to it. I kept getting hints of spices and such, but the hints faded as soon as I started to detect them. Good, but not great.

This beer I also nursed the shit out of, simply because I didn't care that much for it. I wonder if my chocolate beer cravings that I've had for the past several months have permanently tainted my judgment. We'll see.

RealTrainGirl wasn't even close to finishing her glass by the time I finished mine, so I decided what the Hell and ordered a half glass of this:

Schmaltz HeBrew Jewbelation 5766 (13)

(draft) Tried some the other night and wasn't impressed. Had a full glass tonight and still wasn't impressed, but it certainly went down easier. For all the hops and malts used, I should have detected more complexity. Just a decent beer that does a very good job of hiding its high ABV.

Then, finally, some spots opened up in the living room area so we went over there and talked with TallLady for a bit.

I had just about decided that I'd be going home when, lo and behold, HatGirl and her boyfriend came in. HatGirl was wearing her hat, so I of course recognized her immediately. I ordered myself a Diet Coke and we all just sat around talking about nothing much for ran hour or so.