June 9th. 1998

	It could happen to anyone. It does with alarming regularity. . I should have known the silence meant something more. We used to sense these things about one another...used to chalk it up to fate and starsigns and birthdates. How ironic. Can't say whether we believed any of that, can only say what I believe right now. . I believe my head is spinning. . I want to tell you I'm sorry, and I want to tell you I'm always here for you... I want to tell you that I will always want to hear about your trials and tribulations, even the painful ones. But why this...why now? I'm wrestling my own demons, thank you. . spin... . Timing is everything. . spin... . Thirteen years, this week. . spin, spin, spin... . Here I am, exposing my philosophical survival techniques to one... (whether he's interested or not...) ...while discussing the merits of St. John's Wort with another. . And yet, this topic is nothing new. Close friends have babies on their minds and on their desktops. I have even gone so far as to begin childproofing my home for them. Don't want to lose any more friends to the "baby" issue... . It took them two months to decide. I may have waited that long, but I knew the moment I left the apartment. . So young. And him? Even younger. There was never a moment that I regretted the decision. Never a moment in which I genuinely thought "maybe there's some way to keep it." Not alone. Not without him. He was too far away. There were a year's worth of moments in which I wished there was some way to return our relationship to what it had once been. Moments in which I looked back on what we had been to each other, (everything) and wished for the strength to let everything go. . spin... . It took years. And even then all it took was a song, or a line in a book and everything we were would come right back. . And of course, there were the moments, like now, when the insomnia took hold and I would stare up at the ceiling and wonder... ...would our child have had my curls? . siempre, Shy . Addendum: February 7th, 2001. Out of the blue...that's where his e-mail came from. I was speaking with my father as the page loaded and the subject alone (the acronym of a song title...a song that I had only recently been able to listen to in its entirety) was enough to make me catch my breath. My dad asked if I was okay and even though I was (am) I couldn't find the words to express the enormity of this moment. Erased history? Not bloody likely.

or perhaps...