cutting

No ... not getting attention, but intentional disaster. Ending ... ending, I like someone and she has done something few have done --- moved me, like lifting a mountain. I persist on not having emotions, robotic and unhappy emo. Still, she pushed, moved and in subtle moves made me care. I met her for lunch ... just friends, how we will be.

To touch her now is to hurt, panicked frenzied pain of my own creation. It was wrong and now I suffer my chosen Hell of emotion -- fire licks my feet, anchors weigh down my down-turned face. I risked a game and though I liked playing, I had to let her go -- she was never, ever mine.

Her birthday gifts to me sent a painful reminder of what might have been ... she, I, us, we, couple

now, friends.

I miss that, her, us, but it was my fault for it should not have been. No pity, no sympathy, just lamenting the end.