GUILT
I made some mistakes this weekend and I think I'd like to write about them now that I'm not worried about Justin reading it.

Friday night I got to bed really late, around 3:30 AM, and when I slept, I had an awful, traumatic dream about totalling Justin's car and being stuck inside the twisted hull. Before waking up and even in my moments of waking, I was sure it was real and all I could think of was how I was going to have to tell him. Then, as the nature of my dreams are often abstractly prophetic, I reamed his bumper on Luke's car when I went over to Murray's house for breakfast the next morning. God *&$%ing damnit.

I mean, it really wasn't a big deal... all I did was moosh up against Luke's wagon when I was pulling into the driveway. His car and murray's were slightly staggered and I misestimated how far over I was when parking behind murray. But that awful (albeit small) impact and the sinking, stupid, guilt of it was enough to send me regressing into the panic of my dream state. You know what it's like when you have a dream about someone and when you see them it's in a totally different way because of those dream feelings? Well, I basically felt like I'd totalled Justin's car.

Telling everyone I know what a farking moron I am is my coping mechanism. I'll put on my dunce hat for pennance. I know it isn't a BIG thing, his car has small ouches on it from a number of times: when he scraped it on a parking garage, when my MOM dragged it against another car in a parking lot, when some asshat broke a beer bottle on it... but *I've* never damaged a car before and I feel like a total retard. I pretty much figured right afterwards that there was nothing I could do but get over it because, well, it had happened and wasn't going to fix itself.

I contemplated telling him that some dumbass backed into me in the Humble Bagle parking lot so as to displace the blame. But I've never lied to Justin and I don't plan on starting now. But when I went to pick him up in Corvallis last night, it wasn't exactly the most welcoming environment to confess in.

I'd gone over to Alex's around 7 o'clock for game night with him, Nate, Murray and Luke. We had dinner and mucked around with the LoTR board game (got our asses kicked) and Apples to Apples (which, played the RIGHT way, doesn't suck). I left around 10:10 to go home and check the messages. Justin had told me that he and Dave weren't expecting to leave Seattle, at the earliest, by 7 o'clock. So I figured I'd expect a message from Justin around 10 and get up to corvallis by 11. Well, I forgot that Dave drives 80 all the time. I should have had them call me when they were leaving because I would have gotten the message at slightly before seven and known to expect them in Corvallis at ten. As is, I got home at 10:25, went in, listened to the messages, said "SHIT!" and ran out the door.

Needless to say, Justin wasn't happy. I again felt like a total dumbshit, but there was nothing I could do about it. I'm sure he thought all sorts of terrible things had happened to me and that I was somewhere splattered all over the pavement and I'm sure it didn't help to hear that I'd been mucking around with a circle of friends exclusive to him instead of sitting at home pining... but I'd been planning on a late night so I wasn't about to sit at home letting myself get more and more sleepy before hitting the road. So with him stewing in the driver's seat and me wallowing in the passengers, I told him about scraping his car the only way I could think to say it.

"I have something to tell you," I said.

"Yeah?" he said tentatively, turning down the radio, "Something on your mind?"

"Um. You're gonna hate me," I said.

You can bet you guessed where he THOUGHT that was going. I mean, Christ, even *I* know what everyone uses that intro for. But what was I supposed to say? "Thanks for being so generous this weekend and going out of your way to lend me the car, by the way I scraped some paint off."??!?! Right. I thought I'd at least, I dunno, mellow my way in. Or maybe my subconscious just wanted him to jump to "worst case scenario" mode to soften the impact. Anyway, he really didn't care that much about the car but I sure did scare the shit out of him.

I mean, you'd think after being faithful to someone for three years, they'd have enough trust in you not to assume you're cheating on them with your ex the first time you admit to doing something stupid and hurtful. Ouch. For both of us.

Talk about a degenerative evening. I don't think we even so much as kissed each other hello before slumping off to finish our nightly routines and falling into bed. Sometimes it just feels like there's this wall between us that prevents us from saying anything. I don't know if I put it there or if he put it there or if it's just there because we're so different but I hate it so much. Here I'd spent the whole weekend missing him and feeling dreadful and guilty about some stupid thing I did to his car and now even more miserable and alone for an entirely separate reason.

I have to ask myself, Am I doing something wrong? Am I just a terrible person?

For five minutes after we turned off the light, I was immobilized by my frustration, tense and pent up to the point where I thought I'd spend another night sleepless and eyeing the ceiling. But another five minutes after that, enough had been said that I could feel the heaviness behind my eyes taking over. Even though nothing that had been broken, delayed, or misplaced this weekend had been repaired, we knew enough to recognize spite for what it was and let go, forgave, turned toward each other and slept.

I had healing dreams. And when I woke up, it was exactly half an hour after my alarm.

Everything always looks different in the morning, as if somehow the sunrise purifies it, makes it clean and new. I'm always an innocent in the morning now that it's been over a month since I stopped having those Dreams. I can face the day with nothing behind me that isn't the Past. I can build something new in each span of twenty four hours. I can listen to myself clearly in the morning and plan where I'm going independent on what the days before have brought.

So I'm not upset about last night; I'm not feeling remorseful or guilty or incensed. Accidents happen and people say stupid things. But I know I'm doing the best I can and whatever does happen, be it something as little as a scrape in silver paint, it will have happened without an intent of malice. It feels good to clear the air.