One whole year. Would that be a good year, or a bad year? Well, has it at least been reasonably interesting? These are the existentially vague and mindnumbingly mundane days of our lives.

I guess one thing we could say is good is that I have, in fact, eliminated pretty much all of the non-friendships I couldn't wait to bitch about here. If I recall correctly, at some point I went through all those surrounding me who just irritated the living hell out of me, as a descriptive measure for those reading. At this late hour, there's not really so many players involved, anymore, that I should bother doing that.

The one general update: Got sick of them. Decided to hang out more at home. Have caught up on a lot of reading. And Vice City is a very absorbing passtime.

Actually, two broken bones notwithstanding, I'm guessing I'd have to call it a good year. Look how much shit I got done, bones or no. I upgraded my living space, consolidated all my errant stuff from it's various points of storage, finally gotten serious enough with school to clearly see my final steps to graduation, also upgraded my mode of transportation ... hm, I did sadly manage to grow a bit chubby, tho I plan on re-instating my Y membership later today, actually. Sweatin' to the ... well, it'll keep me out of trouble, and in healthier shape. Where was I?

Ah yes, a good year. All in all, I'd say I directed by behavior and energies in directions that I at least thought were good/healthy/productive/whatever. You know, positive.

This diary is one, I think. So a shoutout with much love to all my diaryland peoples. To Becky and Kim keeping it real, to Shannon and everybody else out there brave enough to try and love -- allow me to take this time to say, you are appreciated. Even if by a strange man.

As far as my friends? Well, haven't actually called LBF, yet. I've felt like I ought to, but so far there's been this little stumbling block called ... oh yeah, not wanting to.

And Repressed Gay Best Friend? (RGBF? You know, there's a point where some acronyms actually become strangely more complicated than what they're meant to represent. How bout I drop back down to BF, and y'all just infer the rest? Yes, I'm a minimalist.)

Anyhow, don't really see much of him, talk to him much these days, either. Think I've actually seen him about once a month, these last few. As far as it goes, I think the distance between us grew the most slowly because in the end, on a basic personal level, this is someone I really like, who's really as close to me as family. The problem is that ... well, even if I have to acknowledge is as wholly my problem and not his, the fact is: Utterly convinced he's gay. Have only grown more convinced for years, now. Have even brought this up to him. Yet he still lives a life claiming otherwise. And let me be perfectly clear to you here on why this bothers me: Dishonesty to me. Tell everybody else whatever the hell you like, who am I to go blabbing all your damned secrets? Tell yourself, even, whatever you like.

But in the end? I can't pretend someone isn't bullshitting me when every instinct claims that they are. I just can't.

Hell, particularly when your general actions make very little sense if you're telling the truth, but become crystalline in their mathematical inevitability if I am telling the truth.

So yeah, this my small account of how I went from being a guy whose friends were not his friends, to simply a guy with no friends.