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Nov. 9th, 2005

Last night, I was reminded of the way my life was when I was lonely. Nights spent at the computer, playing games, checking message boards, whatever. It was a picture of myself from the past that I'd pretty much forgotten, and that I didn't really want to remember, let alone relive.

What's even worse is what it means. It seems to me that what it means is that I was looking for a man, for a partner, to save me from myself. Tall order, and one that no one could ever fulfill.

Maybe it's because I'm trying to quit smoking again (and, after twelve hours, my motivation is fading fast). Who knows. But how is it that I can spend eight hours of my day surrounded by people and then come home and feel devastatingly alone?

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