Ooh RealLivePreacher has a really good story with an ending that is all about what I am trying to achieve.

I think that in this lifetime I am meant to learn to let go of everything because it's always being taken away. What the hell am I talking about?

Oh you know viruses that wipe my hard drive, my autographed copy of Neverwhere that Cam dropped in the bath, a place to live that I really like, my transportation, my internet connection even - I am on dial-up right now which is a sort of hell for me and that just went out. Criminy!

And of course the most important person ever was snatched from me in such a horrific and violent way. Supposedly I let him go already. But I still dream about him and I think about him every day.

Right now, in Carnal Fear, I am writing Sutter's relationship with a guy who's based on my Danny. Yes, I have permission from him to use him. That's one thing that makes everything so surreal. I wanted a guy I could kill off (trust me there is a reason) and I couldn't think of one, so when Danny and I hooked up and my googling said that his maximum age limit was 18, I asked if I could base this character on him and he was pleased and flattered..

So I asked if I could kill "him" off and then kabam he was dead a few months later.

God damn life sucks so bad sometimes.

I decided yesterday I am utterly crazy but that's okay, I can go with this insanity and see where it takes me.

I wrote an article for Benn recently that was all about how can I be such a cynic about some things and so full of optimism and how I could possibly believe that we are really good at heart if you look hard enough.

You'd think with all I've been through (and it's a lot, babycakes) I would be sure that it will all turn out horridly. But I don't. I think it will be okay, I'll make my films, I'll finish my novel(s), I'll sell them, I'll keep my Danny alive in my heart, someone will fix my air conditioner (i was getting too deep there)

I wrote to vorpal last summer a whole hell of a lot. One thing I said to him is that everyone says that everything happens for a reason, I just can't see God's plan for me.

I think that I not only cannot see God's plan; if I could I wouldn't be able to understand it or I'd cry out in protest.

I told vorps that if there is a traditional heaven and I somehow end up there, I will start poking God in the chest yelling "What the FUCK were you thinking? What made you think I could survive? Why did you finally give me someone perfect for me and then snatch him away?" And I'll continue in this vein, poking God in the chest, He will be backing up and I will be pressing forward, yelling and I'll make him back right off the cloud.

And it's comments like that which will send me to hell.

On the other hand, I went through this tremendous loss of faith right after Dan died. I was in that ER, waiting for my transfusions, asking everyone who went past how Dan was and none of them would tell me anything after a certain point. It went from he's in x-ray to you need to talk to the trauma surgeons, who never appeared.

I was praying so hard. You know how when you are afraid you promise God anything? Like I used to be this huge shoplifter when I was a kid. Really, I was quite good at it. I once stole a 500 dollar leather jacket. I'm not saying I'm proud of that, I'm saying I had no real moral code until I developed the one I have now, which I will talk about at another time. So anyway, I was in terrible danger when I was about 17 and I asked God to get me out and I'd never shoplift again. And I haven't. I once went a week on one cream cheese sandwich a friend gave me, but I never stole anything again.

So I am praying like mad, God, please, please, please let him be all right, I'll do anything you want. I'll never act again. I'll stop writing. Anything, just let him be okay, please, but I already knew it was all in vain because I felt Danny die and I had my own chance to go with him, I had a fierce argument with someone who wasn't there and I said I had to stay for my kids.

But then I felt my faith totally crumble. It was very much a physical sensation. I was so sad and angry and guilty and so very, very alone because both my rocks were gone. My God rock and my Danny rock. Danny had promised me he'd never leave me and if I tried to leave him he'd hunt me down - he got Cullen to promise to tell him where he went. Don't think that he meant that in any kind of abusive way, he really didn't, he meant it to show me how important I was to him.

I felt like God had made the same promise to me, although not via email or IM's. God had promised to be there when I needed him and he wasn't or he said no to me and I didn't want to hear it.

So here I was, sitting on my bed, screaming and crying and thinking that Danny was just gone forever. That I'd tapped my brakes and somehow he'd died after and he was all gone, like a soap bubble that bursts when it touches something concrete.

Gradually my beliefs returned to me and then I hated God. I went on this rant and I cursed Him. I called Him every bad name I could think of and I can think of a lot.

Then I felt bad the next day. I was worried that I hurt His feelings, which is kind of weird when I think about it because He doesn't seem to have any real regard for my feelings.

So I said I was sorry. In fact I think I apologized on a messageboard, because my rant was electronic, I thought my apology should be also.

Then I went to church and talked to a priest. I said I was worried about Danny because he had very untraditional religious views. But that he was a good person. I said I felt bad about calling God all those names.

The priest said that I shouldn't worry about Dan or God. That just like I never let it hurt me when my kids said they hated me for making them go to bed or whatever, didn't I think that God was at least as capable as I was of understanding the feelings behind my anger and name calling?

We talked for a long time and then he asked me if I wanted to be absolved and I said I didn't think I could be. That the church teaches no sex without marriage and no birth control and I'd certainly broken those rules with Danny and that I think you can't say you're sorry if you'd go right out and do it again. If I had the chance you bet I'd be all over Dan, breaking those rules over and over.

The priest says to me can you say to God, God, I am sorry for anything I have done that offended you? That my intent was never to offend him (not counting my little fit) and I said yes I could, so he absolved me and I went into the church and I lit three candles. One right by the handicapped pew for Dan and one for my mom and one for Torquin Aniais, my baby that died before birth.

I didn't have the right change for paying for the candles so God owes me fifteen cents. I'm just sayin'