sitting here, getting more and more depressed despite my sudden epiphany regarding a certain 3-month-old-brand-new cd burner (burning away steadily, THANK YOU!), the celly doodly-doos. please don't be him -- it's not him, where is he?
it's the therapist, thank fucking whatev. he'd had a conversation with my dad, in which my dad disclosed how happy i sounded the last time they spoke. immediately, the therapist (heretoforth referred to as "obie," that being his name) writes in his schedule, "call morgan." among his first words to me are, "i know you can deceive the hell out of your dad, so tell me what's going on."
so i tell him i'm still sorta seeing the bastard and then go off on how i'm slowly but surely losing respect from everyone i know. but what this whole year is about, i continue, is me learning how to enjoy the now. my entire life had been focused on the future up to a few years ago when all i could think about was the past. so he says that i just said something very significant: all we have is the here and now, and it took him until he was 33 to figure out, after he got all the drugs out of his system. how he's on his third marriage, this one is at 18 years, how his wife was chasing a dream too, how her friends asked what she was doing with him.
do what feels right, do what makes you happy now, because that what you have, is now. the past is a distorted memory, the future is nonexistent, the present is the only thing to be sure of.
and presently, i'm sure that i love him.