Travels In Nihilon (3/04/09 Wednesday)

Woke with a familiar headache and a stiff neck. The hip I couldn't sleep on was one I had to walk on all day yesterday. The main streets were cleared of snow then, and I was determined to pedal in so I'd be able to top anyone else's whining travails and because I didn't want my mode of travel to come up wanting in comparison. But the neighborhoods had been left to nature's devices and, therefore, me to my own. I trudged through the park in the granny gear, bouncing and crunching through refrozen bootprints, wincing at what sounded like my tires shredding, but when I emerged from the park's backside I was faced with an icy downhill and the choice of falling now or falling at speed. If I could keep my balance to the bottom--a very tense prospect--I still would be unable to stop, because even touching the brake would mean falling. But I was already starting downhill, so I touched the brakes and fell over. So, I have a road rash on my left hip and a slight lateral whiplash. I keep looking for the bruise on my hip, but I just don't bruise. I suppose in another fifteen years we'd be talking hip replacement.

Julie wasn't at work. I think she got snowed in. I could have found out from Judy, but I want to ask her myself. In order to finish off these moribund feelings for her I have to suck it up and be the person I should be with everyone else, all those other people I never had a crush on. Five days without her makes that perspective easy. I can't pretend her presence won't alter it, but I think it's important that I try. It's not just a pretense, but a sacrifice of pride, and why should I cling to that?

What does that make of The Admittance? Can I really be in love with Julie and still break away from the feelings I once had for her? I have to doubt I'm in love. Was The Admittance true then but no longer? Can it work like that? But as it seemed unquestionable upon its appearance, it seems as much so now. Should I just let it be?

I dreamt of Jan last night. It seemed we were in a small city (Winchester?). We met by chance, but soon after a friend of hers chanced upon her as well, and they sat at a table and chatted. I stood at a far end of the coffee shop waiting impatiently for her to come to me or at least beckon me, but finally left to explore. I fell in with a group of tourists, about six Italian men, speaking their native tongue, not noticing me. We passed many strange, modern shops. I did not get back to Jan, and she didn't find me.