I guess we should have expected it, what with Mayfest going on all around, but last night was terrible for weather. Right around the time all the warnings and interruptions came on the air (along with one from the Grand Prairie Police Department, which I've never known to happen before), both The Ex and my mother started calling to warn us to take cover.

I'm sure The Ex was thinking of the terrible tornados in March of 2000, where Scott and I were so determined to go to The Parks Mall that we brazenly ventured out, only to find ourselves smack-ass in the middle of our very own tornado! I remember sitting in the car on the service road, praying like mad that God would just protect us from harm, in forgiveness for my defiance in thinking I could drive around with shopping on the brain while He wreaked weather havoc.

I remember the strange sensation I felt that some unseen force was holding my little Mazda 626 firmly to the ground, even as the fierce winds seemed determined to flip the car over. Once the tornado had passed over us, we drove on and around the bend found an 18-wheeler turned plum over on its side. Okay, maybe sometimes I do believe in God.

Amazingly, we continued on our trek to the mall, by this time sure it was closed but awestruck by the damage in the area. When we finally arrived home, The Ex confirmed that a tornado had indeed passed over the intersection where we'd been trapped - not that we needed official confirmation for what we already knew.

Last night, however, we seemed to have escaped the wrath of an actual tornado, although from news reports I know it was frighteningly close. I did sleep with my bedroom window open, even though the air conditioner was on, just so I could listen to the thunder and rain.

Cody just called me from my mother's house to see if we "survived the tornado", as he put it. Actually, as I suspected, he really wanted to know if his dog was okay. Hehe.

When whatever "relationship" you have is primarily conducted over the Internet, and then that contact falls by the wayside, what exactly is left?

That's the question on my mind these days, since Matt and I have barely "spoken" since Wednesday while he was at work.

I don't need his attention 24/7, not at all. But it would be nice to just touch base in the evenings, since that's the only time we really seem to have to talk freely. Without that, what do we really have?

I'm not angry, just hurt and disappointed. If I've done something wrong, I deserve to know about it. If he just needs space, all he has to do is announce it to me in a gentle way, and I'll understand. I'm not some ogre making these burdensome demands on him. At least, I don't think I am.

And it really sucks that I have to write all this in a journal instead of being able to tell him myself.

I almost decided to make this weekend a "computer-free" one for myself. I was beginning to feel rather stupid sitting here like an abandoned animal waiting for scraps of attention, and thought maybe what I needed was to regain my perspective by avoiding the whole scene. But I'm trying to keep from pulling back merely out of reaction to my hurt feelings. I'm trying very hard to not do the things I would have done in the past, because they only cause more problems for me.

Most of all, I'm trying to avoid useless speculation, because that is the worst thing I can do to myself.

But it's really hard to interpret all these mixed messages I feel that I'm getting.