Go On Be Happy Now, Please Be Happy Now
1:29 pm - Saturday, Jan. 15, 2005
Song: Jason Mraz - The Boy Is Gone

I didn't think I knew the problem until I did, and when that time came, I simply tried to avoid it. I thought maybe, if I took a break from this diary, then I could come back to it later and embrace it to its fullest extent. Where I've kept so much of myself for so long. Well it was just a vacation from home, and I'd be happy when I returned from that trip and set my words in familiar space and everything would come back to me again. My life would be chronicled once again, and everything would be good.

Everything isn�t good. That isn�t a testament to me life. There things are going well. I can�t write here any more, though. As much as I want to, I read back and it�s a betrayal. I�ve harmed Chris, I�ve harmed Rahnia, I�ve harmed this diary. Hell, to a lesser extent I�ve harmed Kaeli, I�ve harmed Kevin. I�m a mess, I�m wrong, everything that happened, and I was so fucking wrong.

It�s not just that I was wrong. I was spoiled and selfish. I believed in love for me, when that�s never going to be something I deserve. And they say, oh she has no remorse, she�s got the best end of the deal and we�re all left to wallow in her bullshit while she sits on her mountain. And fine, believe what you will, and perhaps that�s the image I left imprinted to your heart.

But ask me to fix it and I�ll do anything you tell me to. Tell me Chris that to repair you, to apologize I need to lick the ground, or slit my wrists or shatter it, I�d let it all come down and then some for you. You, you were wonderful and good, and I came at it thrashing and flailing.

So no, for now, or forever, I do not know. But I will not be writing here. Not for a while. Not such a change over what has been happening, but here you know why. Everything I said here before, it was for a love and relationship and something I hardly deserved to begin with. But it has all been betrayed. I�m being tried for treason, and I plead guilty. Leave it in emptiness.


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