Oh no! I thought about the past again!

    Here I am, it is 5:22 on a Monday morning. I am sick. Currently chewing a zinc lozenge.
I discovered a website that archives the internet, it's called the wayback machine. I chose to look up the now defunct melodramatic.com, and now I am feeling feelings. I really hate being an adult. growing up was the worst choice I ever made.
      I have not written anything in years, aside from shopping lists or notes to myself about where I parked my car. Now that I am writing this, it's not going too well. I'm dumb.

       Harry, my wonderful German shepherd friend, died on the 16th of this month. He was twelve. Twelve years of my life were spent knowing he loved me and now he is gone. I can't remember the last time I bawled so helplessly. I can feel myself grasping at the last remaining vestiges of my youth to no avail, for time moves but one direction.
         Recently I reached out to an old friend. I sent a message through social media to say, more or less, you will always be my friend and I miss you. I have gotten no response. I'm not surprised. I actually completely understand. I could be that guy, you know, the guy who others need to be free of. Nobody tell my girlfriend how much better life could be, because I'm pretty sure I need her. Co-dependency, right? It's not the only concern, or even the biggest, but it is a concern.
      So, TIME. In the past, before there was rent and bills and jobs, there were long days and longer nights. There were friends. I'm only 29, but I feel so much older, so disconnected from the good time I'm sure you are still having. Please, don't mistake my perception of reality in this moment with my actual reality. I do have some friends and I go out and have some fun sometimes, but I don't connect. I see, I react, I remember, but I don't connect. I don't know how to move forward, and part of it is that I'd rather move back. I find myself longing to be in Orange County, although when I lived there I wanted so much to be here in Los Angeles. The family home is gone, the fucking family dog is gone! The friendships are gone, the carefree life is over. I can't really decide what I miss, or if I miss any of it, truly. Building something new now is always better. Why? Because it is within the confines of reality. I hate reality.
       I never feel truly safe. As I said, I'm sick. Every time I get sick I wonder if I will die. One of these times might be the time. I don't want to die. It scares the shit out of me to think about death. I can't imagine ever making peace with that. Ever. There are a few people who I care very deeply about, and I never want them to die. They are absolutely going to die, and I will too. pity.
        I bought an album last night and I listened to it twice today. It is really great and I am happy about it. Roberto Cacciapaglia "Sei Note in Logica" So there's something.