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| 9 August 2001 Now that my brain has kicked back into gear it is amazing the things that I see...things I have been willfully blind to. The little oversights, the little untruths...why is it so hard to call them lies...is it because I always told myself that if I found out he was lying to me I would walk away? I'm afraid that I am caught up in some strange game. Yet I am equally afraid to ask the hard questions in case I don't like the answers. And then, what if I am wrong? Would he understand the fears that sometimes drive me...the uncertainties? I think I am supposed to be better than that....no I know I am supposed to be better than that, but I am not. Is it because all I know is that it was not my e-mail he was waiting for...it is not me that he wants to talk with on the phone...he tells me he wasn't there but tells the world he was....it isn't me that is supposed to see....it wasn't, it isn't me....... |
| 10 August 2001 They say that I listen well. For that I am glad, but sometimes listeners also need to be listened to. This is one of those times and yet I despair of finding anyone who will see and be willing to switch places with me....And even if I find that special person with the heart to hear I am afraid that I will have forgotten how to speak, how to reveal my heart and my soul...those parts of me so busily hiding behind my mind. So instead, I sit in front of this screen typing hesitant words in a rectangular box, waiting for an invitation that does not come...practicing for ears that will not hear...wishing for things that cannot be |
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| 8 October 2001 it seems that I turn to this page in times of great joy or sorrow beyond bearing..... I think that after today I will not return for to return is to see the ghostly images of dreams never to be fulfilled.... As I look around at my life, scattered about me, like so many shards of glass, I despair of having the strength, the courage to risk the pain of rebuiliding yet again. You see strength and courage are born of hope and today hope is gone, in its place, scarlet pearls, delicate beads of life undone nestled amongst the ruins of my dreams |
| DeDecember 24, 2002 It has been more than a year since I looked at these pages. Strange that I should be drawn to them on this, of all, evenings. Perhaps it is because the children will not be arriving for several days and I remember how they seemed to complicate the plans we tried to make the first Christmas we were "talking". Whatever the reason he has been on my mind for the past little while. I was hurt the last time I messaged him. In life that translates into mean, miserable, ugly and probably somewhat unfair. No relationship goes astray without the contribution of both players. I was hesitant to attempt to contact him, but I sincerely wanted to know if he was okay. He is, sort of. Finally life is such that he is getting some treatment that will, hopefully, help his mental, physical and emotional health. I am glad for that because he is someone with a lot to share. Funny how when we love someone the feeling may change but colour a million times, but if it is true it never totally fades to black. Merry Christmas WP. Love SD |