  Writing that poem last night did something to me. Im thrown back a few steps, feeling nostalgic instead of like Im moving past this thing with Kerri. Im mad again, Im hurt again, I long for her again. Mostly convinced that its all part of the extraction process, but it still sucks that all of this has to be going on at all. I even told my mom about the relationship. I didnt think I would, but then I sent her the poem she knew I was working on. And she really liked it and said she was sorry I was going through this with someone I obviously love.
Nice to have mom in the corner, not telling me Im destined to hurt by choosing to be gay. Im thinking back to things Kerri said just a little over a month ago. In her blog, about how my hands speak to her, touch her so deeply. Spliced with worry that shes not going to show up for a relationship. She began by calling me her f buddy in her blog. Then to the hands thing, then to a total break filled with words of longing to run. Fucking fantastic trajectory. Fuck it. I lost this one. Might take me another few years to try again, but what was good was good. After all Ive fucking been through, I deserve some more of the good. Not this vanishing act under the guise that Im too damaged to be loved.
Fuck that. I deserve so much better. Shes not ready to be loved again. Ok. But I am. Im too passionate to be put on a shelf for when its more convenient and easy. I need to meet someone who desires to give like I do. And can stand up and take it when someones loving her. These half-measures are getting me nowhere. God damn it, I love her. This sucks! 
