Bridge; Gasoline; Match.

I am having nightmares, of a kind.

They involve the elements of debauchery that I've struggled to set aside; and the nightmare is that I'm really, REALLY enjoying them.

So....struggling just a little more than usual, in my waking hours.

Which leads me to a story, and not a good one.

Years ago, when I was young and impressionable (there was a time), I met a girl whom I will call Shelli; I call her Shelli because that was her name and I'm damned if I'm going to change the name to protect the innocent; I won't, cuz she wasn't. In fact, she (and by extension, I) am responsible for f**king up my relationships for DECADES afterwards.

And continues to this day.

She was an attractive girl, no denying; quick witted, with an easy laugh.

I should have run when I had the chance.

She strung me along like no other had up to that point; suggesting that we should get together, and then not being able to make it. Often. Not really wanting me, but not wanting to give up the naive attention I was paying.

Loved to watch me act, and probably fell for that. I thought it was deeper; I clung to the idea that perhaps it was.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Come to find out, it was the 'out of sight, out of mind.' kind of love.

So, the outcome is not hard to guess. I have a hard time saying that I love. And I don't, under any circumstances, believe it when somebody says that they love me.

Close the book and end the story. That's what I do.

Because my believer is broken.

And my sadness is profound.