Isn't it funny how the one person who you think will react in a certain way does something completely the opposite? I thought I could count on you to do what I imagined you to do. Or do what you said you would, and yet you didn't.

Bizarrely I'm proud of you. In some twisted way I'm reveling in my aloneness right now because it means that I don't have to deal with the guilt anymore. If you can abandon me, a thing I have encouraged you to do and not do, I don't have to deal with this feeling. 

I feel like I'm treating this like a blog.... a novel experience as I can never find anything to write on my blog...no one reads it anyway, maybe they would if they knew about it. Are blogs allowed on here? I've seen biography type things, it isn't too much of a farshot from that, surely. I write when I feel the words move me (sounds cheesy, doesn't it.) But there I go again. 

I'm digressing. But I usually do, if I'm honest. 

I write bad things too. I write dangerous things, dangerous if anyone found them. I once told someone that whatever I write shows what I'm feeling, and I haven't been writing the most savoury things recently, the type of things that you wouldn't let your friends or lover see, let alone parents or family. 

Is it so bad that I need secrets? 

RATE THIS CHAPTER!