Picking up the pieces...

I don't know why I'm writing this. I don't even know why I want to respond anymore. I guess a little free association writing helps get the lead out. I need to vent this steam.

I'm so tired of it. The haunting. The endless explanations and reasonings. I just want to move on. My body is battered and, my spirit is torn in so many different ways. Despite trying to look up to the bright side after acknowledging my faults and trying to move on, I've just today flirted with the idea of taking my life. Daydreaming about the letter i would write: "now i'm really dead to you". I know... It's totally stupid. I guess it's just exhausting, especially after the accident. My sisters know about everything now, and it's good that they do. I know that they still love me and care about me, but in what capacity now? Gather together, women of the world, and fight against the tyranny of men! Stick together, feminists! Sigh. We're all human, and imperfect though... Although I wonder if few even care to know how sorry I am for what I've done. Sometimes, I feel like I want to leave this place forever.

It's going to be a long and hard process to move on from this. We had such a civil conversation over IM yesterday, but in her status message she wrote "karma". Karma to get hit by a car and almost killed? My sister calls me yesterday. "What were you thinking?!?!?!" repeated over, and over again. What was I thinking? I wasn't. I was feeling. And my feelings led me to someplace very wrong. Turned me into a selfish immature child, who knew only want without the consequences. "Oh yeah, I heard you were hit by a car...you ok? good." It doesn't matter, I guess. What order it all took place, or how it transpired. Maybe I should have turned out a quadraplegic. Serves him right.

I'm lucky to be alive, but living feels like a tormenting, hellish place sometimes. Vacillating between being able to deal with myself, and being incredibly guilty and miserable to the point of sheer anxiety. It's my own doing, I know. Meghan wants everyone we know to side with her. That's just fine. She's right, I'm wrong, and people should side with her. But I'm not a bad person. Conflicted, immature at times, self-destructive, self-sacrificing, yes. All of the above. Without a doubt. But deep down, I am not malicious. I am not a serial killer, or a petty thug. I was just cowardly, selfish, and scared. Scared of consequences, rejection, loneliness, and ridicule.

Sometimes, all I want to do is sleep, and now even that is marred by the dull pain of my injuries. I wish I could just go to sleep, wake up, and everything be allright. I'm sure Meghan feels the same way sometimes... We have to go on dealing in the ways that we have to. She has hers, I have mine. Trying to come to terms with my guilt and with what I've done. Her exacting retribution to me in her own ways... My family, of course, siding with her, as they should.

What a lesson to learn, and what an incredible burden to bear. I hope you rot in hell. Well, here I am. In my own personal hell. Rotting. Tormented. Just as anyone would want to have it. And now I wonder... How bad would it be, if i was going a little faster through that intersection? What if it was an SUV instead of a car? People would probably say I got what I deserved, then. Push up dasies. I'd make better fish food.

This morning I had a dream. Anxiety dream, for sure. Kate and I were on some kind of spaceship that we were on a mission to destroy. We set the self-destruct timer, and start running to the room where the spacesuits are. We put them on. On the back of our suits was a little knob to turn on the oxygen. I turn hers on, and we float out into space. But wait. I realize that mine isn't turned on, but she's already floating too far ahead to hear or see me. I suffocate, alone.

And then I woke up.

Karmic Retribution and being hit by cars...

Last night, riding bikes on the way to meet up with Greg, I was hit by a car. Chris and I rode to work and were going to meet Greg for a drink . We decided to take the Franklin Bridge across to get to Silverlake. Crossing through the intersection of St.George and Griffith Park Blvd. I went through an intersection having the green light, and someone decided to make a left turn right into me. I heard from over my shoulder, Chris saying "Watch Out!" But there was no time to react or avoid.

It all happened so fast. The only thing I saw was this white car and it's headlights, bearing down on a collision course with me. At first, I thought there may be some way to avoid it, but in a flash realized that it was impossible. No way out. Brace yourself. I distinctly remember the glossy shine of the car, and the glare of the headlights. A dull, deep, cracking sound. The car hit me almost perpendicularly, lifted me, and sent me flying. Literally, I felt my body inverted in the air as I was flying across, hitting the hood of the car first, and being flung through the air to the pavement. The inertia was so intense, that all I could do was let my body go limp and give in to where it going. Ever go end over end in the snow while skiing / snowboarding? That's the kind of vertigo I felt. When I landed, the pain was immense and numbing. Too much pain to move at first, then shock, thinking about all the bones I probably broke.

Lying on the ground, I heard the car screech away, as I saw Chris take off screaming after the car on his bike, as two other cars also sped in pursuit. Asshole. After dragging myself to the curb, I realized that i miraculously hadn't broken anything, although in a lot of pain, and bloody. I could hardly move my left leg and ankle below my knee, and my right thigh was throbbing, not to mention my shoulder, which plowed right into the hood of that guys' car. I hope I left a good mark.

I must say that it was heartwarming to see all the good samaritans who had gathered, called 911, and were of utmost help. Chris was my savior and had it not been for him, I don't know how I would've gotten through this ordeal. He took care of my bike, my things, and sat with me the whole time, making sure I was allright, before going to the hospital. Apparently one of the cars that sped after the jerk was able to get a license plate number. I hope they catch that guy.

As for my bike, the fork is snapped where the car hit. If I had been any further into the intersection, that would've been my leg, no problem. I hope that guy has some sort of insurance. I don't really want anyone to go to jail or anything. I just want my bike fixed and my medical bills paid for. Oh, and maybe some sort of apology. But I doubt any of those things will actually happen...

It was by far the scariest experience of my life, and looking back on it while waiting in the hospital, I could only think of karmic retribution as being a fitting description to the course of events. Thank god I'm alive.

Meghan...

Ah. Public discourse into the nature of such a personal matter. If this is the way we need to communicate, to put our personal lives in the public eye, then you've obviously made that choice for both of us. What a spectacle! This shouldn't be for all to see. This is a glimpse into something very private and personal. I understand that you want to hurt me, and you have every right to do so. You've also chosen by far the most powerful method of doing it. Our metaphorical Nuclear War... You are exacting revenge for something very terrible that I had done, and I am in no position to argue. This morning when I read your comment to my post, I was embarrassed, hurt, ashamed. As I should be. I scrolled down to the trash icon of your comment and prepared to delete it by impulse. I didn't want anyone to see, to know... But then I stopped. Instead, I started writing this. It's painful, embarrassing, both to read and write. But by forcing myself to go through this incredibly difficult catharsis, and dealing with things publicly, I don't have anywhere to hide. The nature of the situation feels very Hester Prynne'esque. Everyone knows everything, and maybe that's a good start. Time will tell...

"I'm trying to see the other side of you too. Trying to see you for a human being and not just a selfish man. But you haven't convinced me yet."

Maybe over time, I can convince not only you, but everyone else, including myself. I know I'm only human, and that like everyone else, I make mistakes too. But why was I so inclined to fail so miserably? To lie so unashamedly? Pathologically? How could I delude myself to a degree where I was able to be convinced that hurting you in this way was passible?

I find some solace in the fact that in dealing with this, in this way, that I'm already stronger than most would give me credit for. I am purposely refusing myself the opportunity to hide, and to not acknowledge my actions. I am not canceling all my social-networking subscriptions. I will not hide. I genuinely want to change, to right the wrongs I've created, and move on with my life in a deterministic way. I have to do this. Both for you, and myself. These are first steps...

I am so interminably sorry, Meghan.

I have to try to work now...