Well, Really, There Aren't Many Options ...

Ah, forgive the self-pity of my preceding note.

Not that I don’t regret what I missed. Begrudge what I would’ve had. The delight that Alexandra and I could’ve shared.

Honestly - to put it the demotic mode - I’m scared shitless.

And very tired of having to having had to jump through hoops for years to survive from month to month (caveat: don’t fall in love with the needy, much less a drug addict).

But reaching into my essential self I try to be thankful to breath another day. To be amused by the follies of this world. Even my own.

To have found love just as it was time for me to give up on that idea forever.

To have someone whose mere existence can bring a smile to my lips.

I’m the kind of man many would type as deeply cynical. Another word rendered useless by the carelessness of others.

There’s no choice really: I’ll have to find some way to dig myself out of this pit.

To have the grace and pluck to make the most of her return be it holding her in my arms or adoring her on my knees.

Enough of this maudlin excess …