October 23rd, 2003

running, bomb tech

Where's a Lunatic?

Lunatic's going to be just a little busy until Monday. Don't expect much from me until then.

Of course, now that I've said this, I'm probably going to be on... but don't count on it.

If there's anything important you need me to see, link me or e-mail me...
running, bomb tech

Joy, joy.

Well, we figured out who stole two of the ghost decorations from our porch.

Tommy and Angelica.

They had the very distinctive sticks. And Angelica said that Tommy stole the stick, he hotly denied it and ran in the house and shut the door. And then Angelica lied (badly) about where her stick came from.

No, they're not coming over to play on MY watch again.
running, bomb tech


Well, Tommy & Angelica aren't allowed to come in here anymore. If Little Fayoumis wants to play with them, they have to play outside.
running, bomb tech


Thanks to wolfieboy, a page on fallacies.

I took several courses in logic. Never did manage to keep up with the bits where we diagram the argument, but I got a fairly good grasp on the basics.
running, bomb tech


Why do I get all worked up over things that are only my fucking paranoid imagination?
running, bomb tech


Departure for California:

Tomorrow, at ass-o'clock in the morning.
running, bomb tech


How I know I love you, and why that's a good thing:

I trust you. Somewhere along the line, trust became more important than love. I had to learn it for myself, I guess, and it came late. I didn't trust Shawn or BJ, not fully. I don't yet trust you fully, but the capacity is there. It has to be earned, step by step, not given. I can't give my trust, not that deeply, anymore. I learned from the coinflip that the capacity for you to likewise trust me is there. That eased my heart immeasurably.

You've earned my trust by not harming me, by not abusing my trust of you, by not manipulating me for your gain and my loss. You've earned my trust by protecting me from things you know will harm me. When you do, inevitably, hurt me, you do your best to patch me up better than you found me. You show me parts of yourself that I'd never dream of crowing about. You've earned my trust by learning me, and learning what to do, and not do -- and caring enough to notice in the first place. Many men wouldn't do as much.

Most crushes die down either within a few months, or after getting to know a person sufficiently. Even when there's no crush, or still romance, I reach a comfort level with people: this close, and no closer. I haven't yet reached that with you. I suspect we could share a skin and still not have my comfort level triggered.

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You're good for me. You make me smile like no one else can. You do lots of things that no one else can. I love you.

It took me twenty years to find you. Well, only sixteen years of active searching. I can name the day I first loved you: the day that votania was worried about a friend being in trouble, and we joined hands, joined powers, joined souls. I hadn't realized that it could or should be like this... then I realized that it wasn't, usually. It was just you.