I really can't go back this weekend and get things finished up with him. I don't really know what else I'm supposed to do to make things better. It's quite a downer when even words of encouragement are received as poorly as mine were. It's not like I can tell him to just please not bother, I'll just buy all new clothes and not ask about anything of mine I didn't take with me, and he can just stay and let his life be the same as it was. It's just all too late for that. I've already ruined the possibility of him staying and having things be the same for him.
I spent the night in the company of friends watching New Legend of Shaolin, which I enjoyed, and we ate some pizza. It was hardly a sexy way to spend my Saturday, but relaxing is as good a thing to accomplish as anything else. And like I said to wechsler today, times like these are like money in my pocket, valuable in the currency that is getting pleasure out of my life. I mean, really, what will matter to me when I'm dead? Certainly not all of those hours I spent writing test cases and arguing with people at work. Hiding under an oak tree in the sideways flying rain is something I can pull out of my chamber of memories forever, and this is the gold I wish to lay aside in its treasure house.