And finally the last to be posted today. What can be said! I hate making people think that they should have a different, maybe worse opinion of me then they already have. Ever have the feeling that two people have had their wires crossed. Maybe think the same thing and it takes someone impartial to say something to break that chain. For something to be said and for contact to be made. Whatever contact that maybe. Softly Softly that's the way to go and maybe a much better novel will be achieved then if things are rushed. God that sounds cheesy doesn't it?

Have you ever had the feeling that things don't add up and when asking major questions straight out the answers are not forthcoming. Why are they not forthcoming. Is it that things are not as straight forward as people try and make out. That things are hotter on both sides then one party would care to admit. That the feelings are there still and the look that was always shared is still there as are so many things.... why can life never be simple? Why does shit always happen? God I hope things work themselves out, that there is something that can be built on -God I hope that the foundation of something is still there even if it means a slow approach. Why can I never get what I want to get across in the way I need it to get it across? Things would be so much more simple if it was easier on my behalf. See through the facade, see through the fear, see the truth behind what I say to how I feel and what I want. If the truth is contrary to this then even if it is brutally honest, it needs to be told to me. But, something, something just tells me deep down inside that its not all as it seems, that there is something unsaid. Some kind of feeling that is shared that one party is holding back on. After all, what is meant when someone suggests they feel the same still, that they enjoyed the time we spent together and still want to see my in some capacity, worry that I cannot or do not want to look at them and yet say that the situation just didn't sit right with them..... God I miss them, miss them so very much, uncontrollably so, their touch, kiss, voice, smell, breath, laugh, presence. Lets just cut it short and say everything. Maybe, it will be like a rose, one that blooms late in summer and surpasses all other flowers on the vine.

Its not just that though. Everything seems to be going to the dogs in my life. Everything and I don't have the strength to fight it. Bear my soul to the extent that I can and be laughed at and ridiculed, why should I bother, fight what would seem to be the inevitable. I have always felt unwanted and so kept the truth of who I am to myself, like a secret that needs to be jealously guarded for fear that it would face destruction if ever found out. Yet, I try on request to bring a person supposedly thought to be close to me deeper into my world and what is it for, to be assumed to be pathetic. I thus decide that whatever happens to me as a consequence those that seem to do this will be kept at arms length, as this is better. Then the ammunition that they have against you is limited. I can no longer forget the things that have been said and done over the years, apologise and go back into that prepared state of suspended animation. I have seen what it is like to feel, and I need to feel that again. However, people feel that this decision is wrong for me it is my choice and I need to make decisions in my life. I can't bear to not feel this again. I don't want to feel alive with anyone else. My life was sorted and I am gonna fight for that life to continue. But, never will the door to my soul be laid open without prove that I am not gonna be ridiculed by anyone. Cause I don't have the strength anymore. Don't think that I ever did. I think I just wore the mask well. But now the mask has worn out and I need someone to see that and respect that I am vulnerable. I need the love of two people in my life just as important as each other. The other I care for so very much and am unable to ascertain the feeling he has for me. The other, well I hate to say it, but I should care for them, far more then anyone else and yet I fear that my body is being eaten up with, consumed with hate for them for which there is no recovery, or indeed going back. The stem -ridicule and misunderstanding and refusal to listen.

I sat on my bed today and though of the lyrics

"I'm 18 with a bullet,

Got my finger on the trigger, gonna bullet"

God, I wish I had the courage, but I always have been a coward. And, if for no other reason, no one else would care for G quite like me.