I have been getting it from all sides, from people who seem to really care about me. Although they mean well, my mind won't heed their advice. Because when it comes to him, I am struck with this blind love that shadows any and all reason. What little piece of faith that barely exists within my soul...but it exists, that's something isn't it? The one warning I should have listened too was his very own. My longing for him to truly share his innermost secrets with me, the person that he says loves, has turned out to be bittersweet. I have always told him he can tell me anything, and he can, but I now understand the harshest of circumstance. I am left wondering, and feeling that part of what he wrote has do with me. It makes me want to scream. There is so much to say, but that door has never been opened to me. So I am stuck here inside myself.

It seems probable that he too has been getting it from all sides. We look to others for answers, when we really should be looking to each other. How can something so simple be so complicated at the same time?

Last night I did drift off a time or two only to be jolted awake again and again. But I couldn't put my finger on what was exactly triggering it. What I read disturbed me, that's a given, but there was something else. I think I finally fell asleep around five in the morning; a fitful sleep with strange dreams. It was just enough rest to give me some clarity by six when I awoke only to have my mind start racing again. I don't feel a need to pick apart and dissect every nerve that was struck. However, at six this morning one nerve would not stop pulsing in my head. It hadn't even occurred to me during or after the two readings. But it would not go away in this moment. It boils down to the cause of his three day New Years binge. Most of all it reminds me of the pain I felt over the holiday season. What is sad is I would have settled for just one happy holiday text, or just one, hey I am thinking about you. I certainly texted him, at Thanksgiving, Christmas, and I cannot remember if I texted on New Years but I did leave a little message on his farm. I never did anything to deserve to just be wiped clean out of memory. And I was stuck with my memories, with a love that would not go away even though he doesn't deserve even a hint of it. Stuck with a deep longing to be taken from this earth.

There is no way to define the irony I feel at this moment. This reading, along with his writing on "Heartache", good intended friend giving away free advice via text message, have been invading my thoughts. It is a two way street after all. All we hope and long for in a partner, we should be the first to step up and do ourselves. Is that not what the Golden Rule is all about?

So here I am, filled with the truest desire to do just that. To just love him, the way I long to be loved.

I now believe in Hell. It is where I have been the past few months. I am desperate to escape. Is that even possible? Once you go there it takes the strongest hold on you. The thoughts of ending my own life. The idea that the best part of me is gone, I have disappeared. Day after long day, walking around an empty shell. Well, I guess that is not true, because if I were truly empty I would not feel this horrible pain. That is the definition of Hell. So, I finally gave in to the numerous requests for a date. I was going stir crazy at home and needed to get out so I finally agreed. Six weeks of distraction. The worst part of it however, is it only distracted me in the moment. I couldn't wait to go home after each date. Home to what? There was nothing here. Just daily trying to make it through, praying that maybe "tonight I will sleep". I have not slept in months, not truly slept. But, he is a good man. He was obviously falling for me and even let the "L" word slip a couple of times, which I pretended to not hear and quickly changed the subject. Every time I voiced that I wanted to end it with him to my daughter, she would encourage me give it some time. But my skin crawled every time he called or text me. I felt like I was betraying the one that I really loved. Betraying myself. Betraying God. That has to be silly, because he was off with her, not giving me any reason that he cared or thought about me at all. So my daughter must be right, time to move on.

But I couldn't seem to do it. Each holiday came and went, leaving me here, when all I really wanted was to die. Me, going through the motions of happy mommy, happy girlfriend. Slowly withering away inside because I had no one to talk to about how I was really doing. Longing for the impossible. Feeling stupid the whole time. So, the holidays finally were over, and I needed desperately to get away. So I sold my soul to the devil and agreed to visit Arizona. Then I got the text...from the only person I needed to hear from, and I was able to go away without actually selling my soul.

That little glimmer of faith still left within my soul is wavering. What will happen to me if it goes out? That is the biggest reason I want to read A Course in Miracles. Clinging to that little piece of faith with all my heart, trying to save it.

I have never loved like this. Whoever said it is better to love and lost then to never have loved at all is on crack, (chuckle to myself). In a way I want him to read this, on the other hand I don't. I am afraid he will run for the hills, for good this time. But we will never work if we cannot share our innermost thoughts with each other, with no judgment, without fear. Accept each other, truly accept. I truly accept all the things about him, the good, the bad, and the ugly...

So, I turn away from all well sayers, allowing myself to be vulnerable. Allowing myself to find my own way. I want to take each others hand and lead each other out of the dark. There is so much good in this world, good to contribute, good to experience. If only we can let the misery go, and embrace the good. So, I shall cling to that little piece of faith...

Di"a*ry (?), n.; pl. Diaries (#). [L. diarium, fr. dies day. See Deity.]

A register of daily events or transactions; a daily record; a journal; a blank book dated for the record of daily memoranda; as, a diary of the weather; a physician's diary.


© Webster 1913.

Di"a*ry, a.

lasting for one day; as, a diary

fever. [Obs.] "Diary ague."



© Webster 1913.

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