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June 28, 2001

I wake up to the sensation of little tiny kisses on the back of my neck.  I turn towards him, blinking my sleep away until I focus in on his bright brown eyes.  "You're so beautiful," he says, brushing my hair off my forehead.  "You've got that title all locked up from where I'm sitting," I say.  He just smiles at me.  Today I've noticed the little crinkles around his eyes when he smiles.  They're so sexy.  On anybody else, they'd be old.  On him, they're just devastating.  They deepen as he smiles bigger. "That's three words.  Pretty good so far, huh?"  "Yeah, great," I say.

We grab brunch at Café Latte, and then he's off to play basketball with his buddies and I'm off to…clean the house.  And mope.  And ponder.

I can't shake it off, I still keep hearing it.  "You know we're never really gonna be happy here, don't you?"  You know this don't you?  Don't you?  


Just because Ashley said it doesn't make it so.  You can do it.  You can be happy.  You can.  Everyone else in the world can be happy, even if it's only for, like, two minutes at a time.  Everyone else in the world can do it.  You can too.  Join the two-minute-happy brigade!  Prove Ashley wrong!

What is happy anyway?  Happy happy happy.  I knew a basset hound named Happy once.  Cutest little thing.  An adorable little Hush Puppy Happy basset hound.  Of course I'm happy, he says.  That's my name, isn't it?  That's the closest thing to Happy that I can think of.

And then later it hits me.  Somewhere in the middle of the night, when Ethan's called and I push him off because I don't think it'd be great to have him around with the thoughts I'm thinking.  You know we're never really gonna be happy here, don't you?  It's not that I can't be happy here.  It's that I can't be happy… with him.  Oh my God. You name it, it comes to life.  I can't be happy with him.