I think I took my last outdoor walk of 2004. I had my light, nylon jacket on, and until I got heated up and sweating, I was pretty darn cold. I suppose I could keep the outdoor walks going if I switched over to my winter coat, but I’m not sure I want to do that, yet. Besides, that’s only a temporary fix, and the way that the weather is feeling, it wouldn’t last long. Soon, it will be my face, hands, and feet getting too cool. And I can’t forget that my jeans are still pretty loose. No, I think it’ll be better to switch to indoor walking. I’ll just have to start going to the Pyramid Mall during lunch so that I can walk there. Though that mall is almost too small for a real walk.

My other option is to wait until after work and go to the Arnot mall so I can walk there. It’s a larger mall and better for walking. But I think I prefer to walk during the middle of the day. I found it’s helping me some with my appetite problems in the middle of the afternoon. If I get a good walk in just before I eat lunch, I find lunch much more satisfying and it seems to keep me satisfied longer. I don’t exactly get that, since walking should increase my metabolism, causing my body to burn through the calories of lunch even quicker. There must be a piece to the equation I’m missing. Probably several, if I think about it.

Well, I guess it’s time to write about the time of year. I’ve been putting it off because I don’t want to, but it’s been on my mind too much to avoid it any longer. I knew I’d have to get it out there sometime, so I might as well get it over with. This week marks the six year anniversary since the nuclear explosion between Z, S, and myself. It’s hard to narrow it down past “this week,” since the whole thing strung out over a period of seven to ten days. I mark the time period from when S sent me the “I’m mad at you and I don’t want to talk to you for at least six months” email on 9 October and she replied to my email telling her off on 17 October with a statement that she didn’t care what “my side of the story” was and made death threats. In between, both she and Z told me that they never wanted to talk to me again and lots of other nasty things. I grant you, some of them were deserved. I was no innocent, and I don’t want to give the impression that I was, or the impression that I think I am.

I don’t know, but part of me wonders if this is why I’ve been a bit morose and on edge lately. I’ve been trying to deny that, as I really don’t want to admit that this might still bother me. But then again, the fact that it’s on my mind suggests that it might. But then I find myself wondering. Am I morose and on edge because the time of year has reminded me of these past events? Or has my mood simply caused my mind to dredge all this back up. I suppose it doesn’t matter. I suppose all that matters is that it’s on my mind and I have to write it out.

Damn, I really didn’t want to write about this. I’m not entirely sure I want to think about it. At least not in this emotional context. It’s been six years. I’ve made new friends. I’ve met a wonderful man and I’m in a relationship I enjoy. I’d rather just let all the past hurts slip gently away. But I guess they have to do that in their own time, don’t they?

The funny thing is, the whole thing with Z himself doesn’t really bother me anymore. It seems to me that I made peace with him, and that’s all water under the bridge. Now, don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I don’t feel a tinge of something — sadness maybe? — over how things went with him. But there’s a certain peace there. If not perfect, it’s been resolved. But I don’t have that feeling with S. Isn’t it strange that the person I was theoretically closer to — the one I had a romantic relationship and the first person I ever had sex with — causes less of an emotional reaction than the one I was just friends with?

I suppose part of that is because of the betrayal involved. It’s because I thought she and I were good friends. I let myself be vulnerable to her — possibly in ways I wouldn’t let myself be vulnerable to Z. And she betrayed that. Not only did she betray that, but she practically declared me evil incarnate, and I think that’s what really hurt. I mean sure, I was in the wrong in some ways. But evil incarnate was pushing it a bit far.

I think it also is because I took her crap onto myself. For a while, I believed her accusations. I let myself be crushed by her hurtful words. In effect, the hurt and anger towards her is also partly the hurt and anger towards myself for accepting that kind of wounding. Maybe even for making myself vulnerable in the first place.

But I’m not angry at her anymore. At least not as near as I can tell. Anger takes up too much energy. It has to be constantly kindled, and I’ve quit wasting that energy. Heck, I can’t even say that I hold her in contempt any more. Contrary to what I’ve often thought, I’m finding that just takes too much effort and energy, too.

Do you know what I do feel for her? Pity. And maybe a little sympathy. But mostly pity, I think. She reacted the way she did not just because she didn’t know everything and made assumptions, but because she let her own emotional demons rule her reaction. And unless things have changed for her in the last six years, she’s still living with that, and may have to live with that for the rest of her life. She’s built a cage for herself out of the past and her own bitterness and anger, and she doesn’t even see that she’s trapped in it. I hope I’m wrong. I hope she’s moved on from that point in her life, breaking the bonds she helped strengthen. But I don’t know if that’s happened. All I know is what I saw. And it’s that S of the past that I pity.

I hope I’m not doing the same thing. I want to be free of this past. And I think I’ve done my best to set myself right. I think I’ve broken many thigns that have held me from these betrayals and I hope I have the wisdom to recognize those that remain and the strength to break them as well when I do recognize them.

But I still find myself wondering why this is still coming to my mind.