The problem with this is that each creation is static. It is made of me but it is not necessarily me. It is a photograph of a piece of me frozen in time. I move on but these, the little bits and pieces that come spilling out of my head from time to time, remain. I move on, I change. I am complicated, I am in flux. Many of these are moments I'd rather not share with everyone I know. But I don't want that to stop me. I want to be honest.

I am pretty good at being honest with myself. When it comes to others, its hard to want to express...been down the road of betrayal one too many times perhaps. He once told me, "your chopped style reads to me as part of your need for privacy. A way of distancing people from you. To engage them in your situations while simultaneously minimizing the fallout that could result. Not a literary response. An emotional response. You don't read as being cold. Just as saying, "Don't get too close inside this. I can't have you here."

I do want in. And I do consciously distance myself. Its habit, done it for years. When I wanted to let her in, I ran, when she came to me, I told. She took that in the wrong direction and things started all over again. Is there no one? Not here. "Not now, now's too important for that."

But that's awhile ago, isn't it. I still feel betrayed. And I still love her, I still miss her. I feel like I am supposed to be mad, that is the appropriate response. but I can't bring myself to feel that. Despite everything, I just need that one friend the kind I could sit next to in silence and not say anything - and just know that things are ok.

It'd been so long since I'd had that. Why did we ruin it?