So...

No pictures this time, no real fancy talk, just trying to get out some last thoughts.

There's something terrible about truth getting out, feelings getting hurt, secrets revealed. That's what makes writing such a frightening prospect. If you don't write the truth, hack it out, it'll be limp & useless, devoid of passion. If you do, you step on toes, insult, reveal too much. I guess that's why no blog of mine has lasted very long, or indeed why my book is so vague and mysterious. I feel the need to lie for some reason, to protect people?, but I have this undying desire to tell the truth. I love the truth, it always does set me free.

I tried to live honestly. But you never really know what's going on inside another person. There is positively no way to know that what we as individual's experience is shared by any other human being. And once upon a time I thought it was love that transcended that gap. But it doesn't. It feels like it does, and maybe that's why the love affairs that make such an impression are those that enrage us, antagonize us, because when all is revealed, we see there's nothing between us and the other person.

People are damaged. Everyone. Some more than others. I always assume I'm more so than I am. But I was happy for the last few weeks. I felt confident, like I was really figuring something out about myself. Then, after a series of texts tonight, I cried endlessly, I got pissed off and bought into her game of baiting me so I...what, pushed her away? Made the hurt go away because now I was this stupid asshole and not someone she missed? I mean, that makes sense, but I could never do that. I would live with the pain of missing her for the rest of my life if need be. I was prepared to.

I don't know who really reads this, and at this point I really don't care. This is the last entry you'll see here. I tried to make a difference and I guess I failed. I'm still glad I tried though. And that I did what I could. And it really seemed to give some people hope or a moment of inspiration from what I know. Thank you for reading and for embracing my words. It does mean a lot.

I feel like there's so much to say. I just don't know if I should take the time to put it into words here. I think I'll go to the park and make a phone call.

Someone hit the lights on the way out.

Night.

K