And we're swinging...

Spring training is far too close. This will be the first time in years I'm there without Randy. And christ, I miss him. Janie's with him, she'll do him some kind of good... I hope.

So, I spent christmas with Janie and the girls. It was nice, mom was glad I was there, and Janie's well... pregnant. Came home and spent New Years with Randy. That was the highlight. Of course, it wasn't the same without Dick Clarke. But, oh well. Spring training's coming up soon, so I should probably start getting up before noon, huh?

*sighs* Randy's back in the hospital, probably until Febuary. So much for christmas at home. I finally went to the doctor and got my head straight. Which is a pretty good feeling and I have some appologies to make. They'll come in due time. Aside from that, there really isn't anything going on.


Not that I can think of atleast.

Because it's burned into my skull...you and him there on the couch. Looking so fucking happy, Mikey. You looked happy. And I just can't stand closing my eyes and seeing that. You're supposed to love me but...you did that when I was...maybe am at the lowest point of my life. That's not love. It makes my chest hurt.

I... What do I say to that?

I'm sitting here in the Honeymoon Suite at the Disneyland resort... and I'm watching him sleep. He wanted to go back out to the park today, but I don't have the heart to wake him up. I'm quite content watching him sleep.

He's on his stomach, one arm under the pillow the other pressed lightly against his cheek. His mouth is open a little and everytime he breathes it flutters a peice of hair that fell down onto his face. He looks like a little boy, innocent and unscarred. I can tell he snuck out for a cigarette last night, the smell still lingers around him. But he also smells like coconut and his cologne... I can't quite place it, but it's nice. I love just laying in bed and watching him... Infact, I think I'm going to go back there now....

There's nothing like snuggling under satin sheets and a comforter....

We're fighting.. again. I hate fighting. I hate being an asshole. I hate that everyone some people hate me. And most importantly, I hate myself You know, he used to be so sweet, and caring... and that's why I fell in love with him.

He was a rookie, I was an all star. It was so perfect back then, I had everything. An amazing love life, my knees, a gold glove and two all star appearances... What happened to it all... Oh yeah.

I blew my knee. Missed almost a whole season. Dropped my batting average to around .140 with like, three homeruns. All in two years. Nearly lost my job, but Estrada went to Atlanta. Todd is older than me, but the new kid AJ, he'll be breathing down my neck. Maybe I should go to the AL and DH. Oh wait... my BA is too shitty.

What else? Oh yeah, Randy. That's a hollywood fucking blockbuster in it's self. I bet if I'd script it and sell it, I'd never have to work again in my life, and live better than I do now. All I fucking did was take care of him! I baby-ed him like he was my god-damned son and not my husband. And you know, I don't even think I've gotten a "Thanks Mike." He's changed so much. He was so sweet, and innocent with those bright blue eyes and fire red hair. He had spunk, and sparked the team. And now... now he's an asshole sometimes. *shakes my head*

I know, I know... I fucked up. I'm the one who ran around with Chase. I fucking admitted that. And I tried to fix it. I tried so hard to fix it. To help him come back to me. And it seems all I do is make it worse. I just... I don't know.

Chavvy and Eric, Pri and Richie, Mark and Barry, Kerry and Bobby... You guys don't know how lucky you are.

I think... I think I'm going to go stare at the stars... or what's left of them, and watch the sunrise, since I'm not going to sleep tonight. If I was strong like Randy, I could cut myself.</i>

I think I'm going to stop updating this for awhile. Or.. maybe make private posts. No one wants to hear me whine anyway. Chavvy, you stay with Eric. He needs you. I don't. Simple as that.

And I think that's all I have to say.

"I don't know why you can't get off your high horse. If smoking is going to make me feel better, than why not let me have that? You like me like this. It makes you feel good, powerful, and all that."

*lip quivers* He... he's.... I don't like seeing him tied up like that. W-why would he think that?

I'd call Chavvy, but I don't think he'd understand me with my stutter. He's probably sick of this anyway. All of you are. I'm sorry.

Can this day be any shittier? I don't think so. Lost to Florida. Of COURSE we lost to Florida. We can't hit for shit off of Beckett.

Bowa was fired. Not that it's a bad thing. Kerrigan is probably gone too. Hell. I might be gone.


Um, yeah. I'm an asshole, that's about that for this update.

My version:

He put that bottle to his head and pulled the trigger,
And finally drank away his memory,
Life is short,
But this time it was bigger,
Than the strength he had to get up off his knees.

They found him with his face down in the pillow,
With a note that said "I love him til I die"
They buried him beneath the willow,
While the angels sang a Whiskey Lullaby.

The ( Real Version: )

Randy, you're my Whiskey Lullaby.