Like the man said, "Nothing lasts forever."

Every time Deep Space Nine ends, I feel as if I've ended a small life of my own. Every time I hear Vic Fontaine sing The Way You Look Tonight, I feel like I'm saying goodbye all over again. To something that was never quite in my grasp. It all ended in a blaze of white light six years ago. And now it just ends and ends and ends. For some reason, I never feel such attachment to the beginnings.

This has been a difficult and painful week for me. Challenges and cares floating on a raft of small successes and hopes. I have cocooned myself away. I have slept nearly not at all. I have rubbed my eyes a lot. Blown my nose a lot. Felt like I'd been run over by a truck. Wished the truck had stopped to cart away some of my belongings before driving off.

This month -- this week -- is filled with many anniversaries. Many birthdays. I am marking the milestones the way you measure distance on a map. With fingers swiveling, itsy bitsy spider-style. An inch is a hundred miles. A year is a lifetime.

I am sorry for not holding on more tightly. I am sorry for many things.

That man loves me. Couldn't you see it? It was written all over his back.