I Am Her...

Sighing my sadness into him, I gently kiss his lips. I will remember this moment for eternity.

After shutting off the phone to ignore the incessant ringing, I'm proud of myself. I hear nothing but silence. There is nothing torturing me. There is no sound to make me jump or panic. There is nothing but complete silence, well, Except In My Head, but whatever.

I can't help but think of the years and years of awful I’ve had. My years of horror and sadness just seem to never fully rest. This life of mine has been an absolute agony.

Yeah, why would he want me to be crazy? Crazy chicks can't be all that much fun- well, except to themselves I suppose.

The last three and a half months have been anything but easy. It still amazes me how far I've come in the last three and a half months. It amazes me even more that I survived the last three and a half months.

Kayla doesn't care what anyone thinks about her. She doesn't care if the rest of the women trash her behind her back. She doesn't care that she’s never invited to meet husbands, or that she’s never invited to private dinners. She doesn't care if she sounds trampy. Kayla is the happiest person I know. God, I wish I was Kayla.

Probably not. I like to do things on my own." "Yes. I am well aware of your rather obsessive independence." Oh, good. Obsessive? "I'm not obsessive about it. I just find it easier to do things for myself, rather than be disappointed when..." "Disappointed when you are let down, and/or betrayed? Am I right?" "You know you're right. Please... please don't play games with me," I beg. I don't like this at all. "Oh, Sweetheart... I'm not playing games with you. I'm listening to what you do and don’t say and repeating it back to you. I want you to hear all I hear. I want you to see all I see. Remember, I'm just learning you, but you have known yourself always. Therefore, I am a fresh perspective to all you know, say, and feel. Do you understand what I'm trying to give to you?" "I know when you give back to me my own words; I don't like to hear them. I sound pathetic. I sound like a loser. I never thought I was a loser, until all of this and I hate it. I hate the way you see me. I'm embarrassed that I'm essentially, completely transparent. I don't like this game, anymore." I feel so sad suddenly.

I love pain because it can be measured. Just like time and numbers. Pain is either really bad, or not so much. Like a one to ten scale. I can gauge anything on a one to ten scale. Pain is always measured, and it always feels less painful afterward. I just remind myself of that when I'm in pain. The memory of the pain is never as painful as the pain was. And I've never hit a 10 yet. There were a few 8.5's, and even a 9 once, but never a 10. Ten is unbearable pain. I bear pain. I can always bear pain. I can bear this pain.

Are you teasing me?" "Absolutely. Does it bother you? I just thought you could use a little humor. Am I wrong?" "No. I like to be teased. It kind of makes me feel like I'm a part of something, or that someone likes me... I can't explain it, but it feels good.

Enjoy your book hunting, Sweetheart. Please be well.

I want to talk. I actually want to tell someone what I feel. I want to tell her, but I can't. I don't do that. I don't confide. I don't vent. I don't share. I don't trust anyone, ever.

She looks at me closely and smiles, but I see it doesn't touch her eyes at all. God, I hate that look.