2008-05-19 12:52 a.m.

The Jonathan Coulton show was amazing. And sad. Very sad.

Or was it? It was probably just me.

His songs were the soundtrack to many of my moments with Arlette. Seeing Coulton live was just another reminder of the long list of things I did that hurt her feelings, angered, and saddened her.

As he sang sad love songs about robots and math and giant squids, my disappointment with myself, guilt, and massive shame percolated to the surface.

Now I'm home again. I feel sad and empty. It's the kind of blunt sadness that isn't stabby enough to bring the tears. They're close, but not quite here. I wish they'd come—I think it's the tears I need to wash the pain away. I'm not sad enough for sobbing; I'm not sad enough to write a song; I'm not sad enough to call anyone and hope they'll be awake to comfort me.

But, I'm sad enough to make me wonder when I'll forgive myself for the things I've done. I'm sad enough to find myself staring into the computer screen for minutes without typing anything. I'm sad enough to sit in the dark.

I'll sleep now. I'll probably feel better tomorrow. I usually do.

Anna used to sing me a traditional Nordic lullaby. It's originally in Swedish, but she sang it to me in English. I wish she was here to sing it to me tonight. It goes like this:

Now it's time for Justin to go to sleep
Otherwise it'll happen that I'll beat him with a stick
Don't be a bad boy and scream like you do
Don't you see, Justin, that Anna's with you


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