Lack of Armor.

I swear, this morning was the hardest morning I've had in a long, LONG time.

It all started when I began recalling events from this past week. The week was overall good, but when you feel rejected - that's never a positive feeling.

I suppose I was in denial over it all (in case you haven't heard; in my infinately boneheaded ways, I managed to screw up yet another relationship). I try to see the good in everything that happens. I don't hold grudges. I just insist that "life is life" and let it be what it is. What the hell is it though?

Ted (who is wise beyond his years) once told me that life is a series of events that are nothing more than reaching for something you want, but never grasping it - or the opposite thereof.

In other words:
Dreams either come true, or they dont. Period.

It turns out that I was hurt worse than I had originally thought. In that regard, I just kinda fell to pieces this morning in the parking lot across the tracks in Cal. It wasn't one of my better moments. I'm not a crier by ANY means. I cried.

Since around 1996, I've not had a truly GOOD November. It's always been riddled with girl troubles, deaths in the family (or families close to mine) and just overall disappointment. It's only a few weeks into this month, but I'm not losing sight of what I'm trying to find. I'm really going to try to salvage a good November from this, somehow.

I'm not nearly as strong as I used to be. I can remember a time when I'd have shrugged this off like a mosquito bite. I suppose I'm not that same guy anymore. I suppose I'm a bit too sensitive. The fact remains that I like who I am, and I'm certain that there's another out there that feels the same way. I'm disciplined and patient. I'll heal.

If you're reading this, you're obviously a tremendous friend. To everyone that supports me:

Thank You.

-Crock