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April 4, 2001

He doesn't call until something like 5pm the next afternoon.  Says he didn't finish helping his friend move until 4am and he slept all day.  Oh sure.  No, sure.  No, really, I mean that, no trace of disbelief.  He comes over for dinner, and I do the shrimp thing I was gonna do last night and he smiles at me across the table and graciously endures watching Aladdin with me, smiling as I'm laughing my ass off.  And the sex is glorious as it always is, and yet, when it's just us in the bed, in the dark, and I'm holding him in my arms, I know I've got to pull back.  I've got to reign in my feelings here.  I can't be suspicious of him when we're not together.  I've gone completely overboard, and I gotta knock it off.  I've gotta stop caring so much about him, I gotta let…I gotta let him go.  Not end it, not turn my back, but I gotta…well I gotta stop spending so much time with him.  I have to stop caring about him so I can be a normal person when he's not around.

  I've spent so much time with him, I have to figure out how to spend time without him, and still be okay.  And not think he's off boffing some other chick. I need to learn to trust without him around.  How bizarre is that?  I'm positive I'm the one who cares the most here, and I'm the one who's going to have to make the moves to step away.  To let go.  How the hell am I gonna do that?