Faith is in Albany. Since no one was doing anything that they had promised, she returned to take care of some details and to talk to another lawyer, and here I am. She called Saturday around 1:30 to tell me that she and the girls had made it alright. She hasn't called since. That bothers me. It seems to me that a moment could be stolen away. Just a moment to call and let me know that she was alright, that the proverbial shit hadn't hit the fan. A common courtesy call.

But enough of that. I've been driving myself crazy lately. I had thought I'd made up my mind. I'd considered the idea of leaving when she returns if things don't improve, but that thought leaves a hollow pit in my stomach and a lump in my throat. I love her. With all my heart. And I want to be with her. Forever.

I don't know. Sometimes I wonder if she wants me to leave. I don't know what to think anymore. I've began working on a song. And it saddens me. Right now it is called “Faith.” The melody is drifting. And seems lonely. And sad. All the things I have been feeling. I mean ... Jesus.

The night before Faith left, she spent about an hour and a half online with a guy neither of us even knew. Then she slept on the couch. I had hoped to at least sleep together, possibly to repair some of the strained bonds which exist between us. The best possible scenario would have been to have made love, but I find myself wondering if we'll ever do that again. I find myself wondering how long this relationship will last. I have tried to understand what she is going through. I have tried to conduct myself accordingly of late. But in the back of my mind is always the question of when I will get something out of all this. When will it be my turn to be understood? Nothing should be this difficult. And no one should be this lonely.

Oh, well. Enough of that for the day. I have harped on it since I don't know when.
I have probably talked to people when I should have kept my mouth shut. And yet time and time again, I find myself lost before Faith's indifference, and I have to find someone to talk to, because we surely don't talk anymore.

And I look to what needs to be done. Foremost among this is the need for employment. There is the need for some sort of success. Some sort of activity. I think I am going to start sending out my material. I still have the Rainbow Records address. And there are some other things. All probably very minor. But possibilities none the less.

There is a company in South Carolina looking for music to do Aerobics by, and they aren't seeking strictly “beat” music. They want real music, only at a quick tempo, so maybe I'll whip up something to send them. You never know.

The point is....it's time I at least tried to do something. I've never submitted my music to anyone. No one! Other than the Billboard Songwriting Contest, I've never sent anything anywhere.

And that brings me to another thought. If there is really some sort of magic there, if there is really a quality to it, maybe I can take advantage of that. I know that Wings is certainly saleable. I don't know about some of the more orchestral stuff, but I think record company types would find it interesting at the very least. That in itself might lead to other things.

So who knows? Basically put, it's time I got off of my ass. It's time to at least try. I don't know what the future will hold. I don't know how wonderful or how miserable the next few weeks will be with Faith. But I find myself looking at people on television. I find myself reading the credits of movies. I find myself marvelling at all the names. All the lives. All the dreams and struggles. And I can't help realizing that each of those people are simply doing what they need to do to make ends meet. They're trying to enjoy what they're doing and they're trying to put bread on the table, and I'm beginning to think and feel and believe that it's about time I did the same. If there is any kind of money to be made with this “quality” some say I have, then it's high time I went at it.

So I'll know. Soon. Which way to run. When Faith returns. I'm finding this need to be lost in the music again. Because I'm certainly not getting what I need from her. I just wish I could come back to the music under better circumstances.

I really would like to write another happy song.