it's so nice to be missed.  Xanga emailed me today and told me I was missed, what a nice gesture Xanga, I really appreciate it.

he's scratching at my door, asking to enter in, holding the keys to a realm beyond my reality, beyond loneliness, beyond hurt feelings and emotions, beyond regret. don't be decieved, i'll not willingly open the door, but though the door stays closed, a nearby window wispers in the simple, subtle deception asking me what i've done, why i've wronged, where I went a stray, who's to blame. he no longer gives answers, he's much too clever, no simple questions, innocent questions scratching at the door like a shunned lover speaking to my weakness, embracing my imperfection. if i stop to listen to the wind, the wispers, the scratching, i've already lost, the door's already open. he's so patient scratching at the door, so persistent and yet my lover is here with me. in the midst speaking and listening. no questions. no answers. 
               -why don't you stop him?
               -look at me.
               -stop him!
               -look at me. you must choose.
               -but I'm so confused. i'm sick.
               -you're not sick.
               -ok. i'm not sick. i can do this, You can do this.
               -that's true.
               -You're safe, You satisfy, You're with me.
               -that's true.
               -help me. 
               -I'm here. 
               -help me!
               -I'm here ray.
               -i know. i just want You to stay with me.
               -I am here.
                 ....
               -i can breathe again, he's gone
               -I'm still here
               -thank you.

All alone.  For like 3 days I've been all alone all day at work.  It's quite depressing.  I need people.

It makes me wonder how unreal Jesus is to me from time to time.  Especially when I hear about people in the persecuted church who say they spent 3 years in prison and it was a honeymoon with Jesus.

Jesus, I need you to be real or I can't do this.