This is part 2 of a three-part diary entry. Read part 1 first if you haven't yet.

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I know when it started that night. We were talking on the couch Sunday night. And saying how incredible the weekend was, and to think that I almost wasn't going to come over that weekend. And she reiterated what she told me on the bench in front of NYC's giant Xmas tree. How we were both afraid, and that she didn't want to feel like she had to "walk on eggshells" with me. She thought being so open would scare me away, but it was quite the opposite. Because I had been feeling the same way. THAT'S what was bothering me last Thursday night. And with some help from a witchy friend, I realized that. And I wasn't depressed any more, and ready to get things back to going well with her.

Fast forward to Sunday night, after a weekend of pure happiness. I brought it up to her. "You know what you said on the bench? I feel the same way myself. And that's why I was feeling so burdened inside. I want to be able to share news with you about my [particular hobby], writings, and other things that are Satanism-related without you rolling your eyes." And that's when it started.

Does a mate of mine HAVE to have the same religion as me (Satanism)? Certainly not. I've been through more than one long-term relationship where, despite having religious differences, neither of our religions was something intollerable to the other. But I just can't be with somebody who's going to be afraid and highly critical of big things in my life. And it's some of the little things too. I can't be with the kind of woman who says she wants to "Shoot Hugh Hefner in the dick and bomb the Playboy mansion". Who got so hurt and offended when I said yes, although I don't oggle and drool over women, I do at least NOTICE other pretty women in public now and then. (She of course claims she "wears blinders" to all of that when she's with somebody.)

I won't put up with that. That fear of saying things the wrong way or maintaining my opinion on matters only to see her react to me in that way. I just can't. I don't kid myself into thinking a happy couple will never have their share of arguments. I smartly gave up on searching for idealistic "perfection" years ago.

But considering this is really the second and third time we've seen each other in the flesh, shouldn't "alarms" be sounding off in my head when things get this depressing both this past Sunday and the previous one, after staying together for a weekend? Were we to stay together, how many Sunday nights is this going to happen, where we argue and feel so low about these things? I'm not going to be one of those men who ends up living a quiet life of desperation, married to a woman who grinds his ego to mush.