The Guilty

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They say it's better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all.

I disagree.

I've lost before. I lost the affection of my parents before

I was old enough to know that the world looked upon an estranged child with sad eyes. I lost my first love because

I was too cowardly to protect her. I nearly lost my life due to circumstances beyond my control. All of those losses created holes in my life. Holes I've attempted to patch up, to cover, but they'll always be there, even if they don't leave a mark on the surface.

Doesn't mean I can't try to forget. Through life. Through work.

Through Amanda.

If she wasn't here, lying next to me in our bed, her head inches from mine, I wouldn't be here at all. It's not that I'd be back in Oregon, paying my dues at the news desk of the

Bend Bulletin, skiing at Mount Bachelor, thirsting through thirteen inches of annual rainfall, and paying two hundred bucks a month in rent.

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