I've lost track of a lot of them. Didn't mean some of them. Wish I hadn't made a few of them. And yet here I am thinking about them.

About the people who made them to me, and who I made them to.

About the past.

About a few very specific, precious things... a bit of velvet and steel, a length of leather, some cheap sterling silver jewelry with little black beads, an ankh, a little red liondog, a tiny knife, a broken silver necklace, a strand of amethyst chips on black thread...

I've said a few times that most of my relationships can be defined in some way by a piece of jewelry. Something bought or given or made or found or broken.

I've been talking to Ryan a fair bit lately, just... keeping him company. He's stressed out over a girl who seems to be trying to forget he exists, he's pressured by another who should have stopped doing so a while ago, his life is shitty, he feels like hell, basically he just needs someone to bitch at. I can be here for that. I've talked a little bit to Kadin too; not much, though. Not as much as I'd like and at the same time, maybe more than I should. I keep missing him, no matter how much distance and time there is between Us Together at this point, I still miss him. A lot. It hurts, remembering... but y'know, it's the good kind of pain. The sort where you're glad it hurts because at least you know you can still feel, that it meant something to you, that it wasn't just a dream.

I've talked a little bit to Nreshan. Not much, really. The last month... it's been really rough on him. Between the holiday hell, having to deal with moving, and having me suddenly Knocked Up unexpectedly and irrationally, he's not had it easy. I keep wanting to just... talk with him, y'know, hours saying lots and nothing at all at the same time on the phone, that kind of closeness you get in 'normal' relationships. I'm afraid that even if I ask for it, try to arrange it, that it'll just go wrong like everything else and somehow make things worse, so I don't. I go on.

Puppy just got back from the doctor a few hours ago. The medication they'd put him on... to say he had a bad reaction to it would be severe understatement. The darker side of his head is back out and about - if you followed any of the deal with Facade, if you know much about Sieia-To, then really you understand. And if not, then I'm not going to try explaining. Suffice to say he makes me nervous again. Admittedly, he made me nervous even before this... he's been saying a lot lately about love, wanting promises, wanting safety, wanting assurances of things that I simply can't give him.

Caleb hasn't gotten laid in FAR too long. Between the pregnancy and now the miscarriage, I haven't been anywhere even CLOSE to in the mood. It's been hard on him too, having to be there for me through all of this, getting damn near ignored because physical touch makes me queasy or because I'm too hot to deal with snuggles or just too tired to do anything but curl up and pass out... he doesn't deserve to be treated like that. He knows I love him, knows I appreciate him, but when I don't SHOW it... it's hard, y'know? And I see it in his face, hear it in his voice, and it stings, but there's nothing I can do about it yet.

I'm talking to Inari again, finally. MSN still somewhat hates me but... ehh. I'm at least trying. Talking. Conversing. I don't know where it's going to go but I know that the first time I talked to him after my... absence... it was almost a relief, like catching hold of a life preserver when I felt like I couldn't tread water any more. Which right there, tells me quite a bit about where my head is about to go.

Everything cycles. Round and round, the same old stories played out a hundred different ways, only the details changing, the essence the same.

I listen to songs and it makes me want to cry, remembering how many times I've let them play when the world hurt so much I could barely breathe for the pain of it. I think about things that happened. Wish they'd turned out differently. Wonder what would have happened then. If I'd still be sitting here, typing, letting winamp alternately slice my heart open and stitch it back up, waiting for the latest round of painkillers to kick in, wondering if my life is really going where I want it to.

I've come a lot closer to death than I ever expected to, recently-ish. I've always thought I lived with the assumption I could die at any moment. Maybe I used to, but... lately I've gotten used to being alive. And now it's winter, and I can still remember how it feels to realize that another few hours could have left me no longer breathing, no longer thinking, no longer HERE.

And, just like every other winter, just like every other time when the meds haven't hit yet and the music is strong and everyone I think of makes me want to cry... just like every other winter... part of me starts thinking that maybe, that would have been best.

I hate the holiday season. I hate hormones, and depression, and pain, and frustration, and a past full of memories that are beautiful enough to make me cry when I think of them because I know they won't happen again.

I hate remembering why it was I last tried to kill myself. I was happy. I had everything, in at least some sense. I wanted to die then, so I wouldn't have to go through with the aftermath, wouldn't see it fall apart, wouldn't have it turn to memories and dust. I wanted to die then so I wouldn't be sitting here tonight, hurting, wishing, missing, aching. I wanted to die so badly.

I didn't want to have to hear "I love you" from someone I won't ever hold again, won't ever touch again. I didn't want to have to hear "I miss you" from someone I wish was here beside me. I didn't want to have to hear "Forever" and know it was meaningless.

Ryan... he said once that the worst part of it was that after he'd already called the ambulance, when I explained why I wanted to die... he was afraid he'd done the wrong thing. He understood. He felt... guilty... for not letting me.

I love him for saving me. I know he did it because he cared. I know in a lot of ways it was for the best. Most of the time, I'm glad to be alive.

Just... not tonight. Tonight my wants are simple. I want my boys here. ALL of them - Kadin, Caleb, Nreshan, Ryan, Puppy. I want my friends here, Becca and Bug and Kenji and Candice and both Scotts and Grr. I want Angel here, for us to somehow make up, to talk late into the night and into the morning the way we used to. I want Malkav here. I want 'here' to be a comfortable, well-heated, air-conditioned, insulated house with cable tv and lots of computers and beds for everybody and a huge tub. I want us all in good health, physically and mentally and emotionally, supplied with interesting drugs, strong drink, good chocolate, and plenty of food and beverages.

If I can't have that? I want all those people, everyone I care about, comfortable and reasonably content and surrounded by people who love them.

And if I can't even have that?

I want to fall asleep, and dream that once again, all of my boys are mine... that they are near...

...and never wake up.

I miss you so much that death seems better than feeling this emptiness.