OK, much better. I went to sleep in my own bed and woke up in my own bed.

I woke up feeling like I had left a trail of parts of me strewn down the block to the 18th and Potrero bus stop, on the MUNI back to 16th and Mission, on the BART back to the airport, on the plane back to New Jersey, up the New Jersey Turnpike in what is now my brother's car.

But I got out of bed after less than six hours of sleep and the moment I pulled off the warm covers (chilly San Francisco morn) and my foot touched the ground, I felt a wave of "real". And that's what I want to do, to find what's real to me, to find my personal truths.

The feelings of negativity slid away, the positive feelings also held in stasis; look at where I've taken my life (negativity), consider where my core beliefs lie (positive), and proceed on my path giving no automatic validity to either.

Madoka called this morning. Yes, I definitely love her, I wonder what better person I could be blessed with for 10 years of friendship, but the connection we used to have is definitely gone. Our minds and feelings aren't synched the way they used to be.

It's no tragedy, it might even have been natural, expected. We probably won't get a chance to meet up during her time in the U.S., and that's OK. We don't need to prove to each other that our paths have already vastly diverged. We don't need to prove that our paths may not ever even have crossed.