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I woke up last night at 1:30a on account of the hellacious storm that seemed to make the night into day with the amount of lightning in the air. And I went downstairs to make sure we didn't have a tornado on the way. I checked the TV. Conan O'Brien was on but no weather report. I watched through Modest Mouse (much better on the album then live, IMO) but as no info surfaced and there didn't seem to be any hail or anything, I just grabbed a blanket and laid down on the couch. Then I proceeded to stair at the ceiling for 3 hours. Hollow nights like that are horrible--you get an hour or two up front and finish off with an hour. But the middle, the time you really sleep, you don't. Insomniacs know what I mean? You end up more tired than if you just put on a pot of coffee and pulled an all-nighter. For me the worst part is all the thinking. I can't shut my brain off. And no amount of praying, reading, humming, banging my head against the wall, keeps me from doing one of the following:

1. Reliving moments in the past where I said or did something I shouldn't have. Or I didn't say something that I really should have.
2. Worrying about the future.
3. Thinking about some crazy theory that someone has and wondering if it's true, attempting to think through all of the implications if it is.
4. Worrying about how tired I am going to be tomorrow.
5. Thinking I hear things, like voices.
6. Burning things because the voices tell me to.

Last night, I found myself careening toward #1 to such a degree that I couldn't believe I wasn't 19 and in college. That may be an indicator of insanity. Then, as an even greater indicator of a degenerating mind, I started wondering about my ex-girlfriends. Don't get me wrong--I am extraordinarily happy in my marriage and think my wife is the best wife that anyone could have. I am not consiously or sub-consiously questioning her or marriage, etc. This doesn't seem like some Freudian suggestion--my Id telling my Ego that I am unhappy. I simply wonder where my ex-s are and how they are doing. It's weird to think that some pretty major parts of my life have already gone by and they were spent with other women than the one I am married to. It's even weirder to think that--at least at the time--I loved or thought I loved them. There's still a strange pang of heartache or loss or something that was conjoured up just thinking about them or maybe thinking about being with them, hanging out with them, their personalities, the way we made each other laugh, etc.. If there's any argument against dating without the intention of getting married to that person, there it is. I don't regret those people, just that there are others in my memories other than my wife. Not just in my memories, the way that friends long gone are in my memories, but in my heart. They're caught somewhere in my emotional cesspool, perhaps biodegrading. How should we look at our ex-s? Do we just chalk it up to a wasted time in our lives and forget about it? I did realize that the more I tried to replay certain days or events with them in my mind, the more they turned out like Momento: convoluted, labrynthine, exchanging cause for effect. In my memory, people were there--speaking, interacting with me or my girlfriends--that I wouldn't actually meet for another few years. And I kept putting words in my mouth or their mouths that may never have been said or perhaps was said but by someone else. Are these really my memories? Did I ever actually have any girl interested in me? Why the hell did B marry me? Good thing I didn't have anything tattooed...I could have ended up killing "John G."