if you don't like it, don't read it

things are gelatinizing very very nicely. i feel calmly optimistic about the world.
in the midst of my serenity i received a drunken phone call that annoyed me. apparently he cannot communicate with me unless he is inebriated. the other day his voice expressed palpable surprise when he said "we had a really good time last night and we were sober." that pissed me off. i was immediately reminded of that same conversation in alaska, how every time we'd get together it was whilst carousing, how we'd discuss the anomaly of that over hungover breakfasts and agree to do better. but i could still talk with that guy. i am left with a brief paranoia that either 1. i am the sort of lass that one must be fucked up (chemically or emotionally or otherwise) to be around, or 2. i have a masochist-magnet, being a bit of one myself. aa talks about this. alcoholics have a fucking radar, the ability to sense similar tendencies in a crowd full of people. this must be why i always fall for such people, and why they always let me down. i wish we could be actual friends.
...but everything else is falling into place, temporarily, for once, so i am not too bothered by much of this at the moment.
the final divorce hearing is on the 9th of march. yesterday was another fucking reminder that it could always be so easy when we actually acted like adults. after the meeting with the court facilitator we lingered in the parking lot. we both cried a little, laughing as we did, the sun brilliant and cold. "i'm okay until i see you" he said. "and then... this whole thing..." "it just fucking sucks" i said. "yeah" he agreed, "that's the only way to put it. it fucking sucks." i felt yesterday that we could possibly be friends. someday. someday when it doesn;t hurt so fucking much, when the rare but incredibly good times aren't so fresh a memory, when i don't expect what i could never have.
i drove away with everything visually sharper. it was probably the sun. i use this word too frequently of late but it seems to suit the mood most efficiently: poignancy. i daresay this is my favorite emotion. it proves that one has given a shit.