Yes, I worry. Not just because you tend to do stupid things when you're upset and more often than not will make things worse if given an opportunity, though that is a large part of it. But I also worry simply because you're upset at all, and because no matter how much you assure me otherwise, simply by the timing of this current problem it can't help but affect your thoughts regarding our earlier conversation.

It's been about two hours. Two hours since I told you what I intended, and why. Two hours since I tried to explain. I don't know if you even really registered my reasons, if I explained them well enough to make sense, anything. And as you said, it's a long time in the future. Things change. Perhaps when the time comes I will have a different plan, or no plan at all, perhaps things will work out differently than I expect or hope or even fear - gods know first meetings can sometimes be the first pebble of an avalanche. Nreshan would be an excellent case in point here. *sigh* He pointed out that all of this, my being upset, his acting stupid, the fact that now I'm barely speaking to him and he's PMS-ing nearly as bad as I am, really started when he came out here and met me for the first time.

So maybe it'll be the same with you, if we ever meet. Maybe it'll work out well. Maybe it won't. Maybe there won't be a meeting at all.

Meh. Talk of meetings... a large portion of my depression lately centers around the fact that even though Geoff and I are talking more often now, even though at least in some sense he's back in my life, I can't shake the feeling that I won't ever see him again. When I talk with him... there's a distance. He's afraid of coming here, coming back. Afraid of me. Afraid of us. And I can't think of anything to do to help him deal with that fear, nor do I think he'd let me even if I could.

I honestly don't think he wants to come back. This... isn't home.

I don't think anywhere else is either, for him. No wonder he seems to be falling apart. Everyone needs to have somewhere they feel safe, somewhere they can call home. As far as I can tell, he doesn't have such a place, and hasn't for a long time now. It hurts to think about it, hurts even more because I would give my left arm to give him such safety.

*shrugs quietly* That's just how it goes though, I guess. It seems this year is The End in a lot of ways. Geoff, again. Nreshan, for the first time. No matter what happens with the pregnancy I'll be getting a hysterectomy if the insurance will cover it, tubes tied otherwise, as soon as I safely can. This... will be the last time I am pregnant, hopefully.

Three more years and I'll be thirty. I don't even want to think about that.

I'm going to post this now, drink some soda, try to relax and just not think about life, 'cos (likely courtesy of my hormones) I'm getting pretty damn depressed again.