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I’ve wanted to write so badly. I need to get this stuff out of my head. But I don’t know what to say, or where to start.

This last few weeks have been like something out of a film. It’s like it’s all been happening to someone else, like I’m watching this horror movie play out and it’s not really happening to me. This stuff is the stuff you hear about on the news, not the stuff that actually happens to you?

…I found out some things about Shifty. I found out more than I ever wanted to know.¬†Every gut instinct I ever had about him all makes sense now….

Problem is, I found out some things, and it send my head reeling. I didn’t know if I believed them, despite them being from a source about as official as it gets. I just couldn’t correlate them to the Shifty I knew, so I kept going with my stupid head and even stupider heart and answered his call again. I went to him again knowing what he was.

I wish I didn’t. It was the worst mistake of my life. I see who he is now. I know firsthand.

I don’t know how I’m ever going to come back from this.

And I’m not allowed to tell a soul.

Waiting on my Right Hand Side

She’s sitting on his lap now. He’s letting her play with his iphone, her little face is engaged and content as she flicks through apps and watches the screen change wide eyed. Sand everywhere from the days adventures. Modern ugly technology looks wrong in her tiny hands.

I experienced the other side today. The side where you pack the food, spread the blankets, kiss the bumped heads better and get worried when the kids wander out of sight.

I didn’t realise there was quite so much drinking and pot smoking involved in the other side. You kind of don’t see that when you’re a kid. A cigarette is just a cigarette. A grown up drink is just a grown up drink.

Ah well. Not my kids, not my moral issue.

Honestly speaking, I haven’t smoked for a long time. It’s not something regular any more, like how it used to be with my friends during young blood summers… they all grew up and started sniffing things up their noses and taking tablets and things and I just…diverted. I wasn’t there to be offered all that. I was hitting the gym, I was studying, working on my career, my future.


I was watching Charlie today. Watching him mess with the kids, run around like a child himself. It warmed me up inside, made me smile. Such rough tenderness, and good heart.

It also drew attention once again to the fact that I have no maternal flicker. No nesting instinct. Which kind of bothers me. Not overly, I just never understood why I wasn’t good with children. I feel like I should have a motherly instinct coddled away inside my ovaries like all women supposedly do. The blankets neatly tucked and pillowcases stuffed, you know? Is there something wrong with me?

Will that change one day, I wonder? Am I still just too young and immature? Too flighty? I sit and watch it all, and feel the need to…leave. To get out of there. To not be part of this scene. This weird twist of heat, and dry mouth, and mouth sticking in a smile as you think up retarded answers to kids retarded (but occasionally insightful) questions.

It might change I guess. It might not. Just an observation of the day… I’m mellow. It’s been a good day. I’m just being introspective I guess.

I wish Shifty would text me back, I miss him when he’s all silent. I can’t help but feel this internal creeping sensation that he’ll disappear for another month. I try not to expect anything, he’s made it plain I shouldn’t, but I crave his company. Crave him. Just him, not anything else really. His company, in its most basic form.

What, sorry, what…?!!!


Shifty is back. Again. And again there’s that pull, I just can’t say no when he calls. Despite the fact there’s a guy here at home I really like and who I think likes me. It’s like the second Shifty is around it’s tunnel vision.

Really beginning to feel that if I continue beating my head against this particular brick wall, my face will come out the other side any day now…

I’m making the conscious decision, to let it all go. What my friends think, what I think, the differences between what I know I should do and what I want to do. It’s all gone. Piss in the wind.

I’m going to fuck up. I know it. My head and my heart could not be more opposite right now, and my stupid heart is winning. Even though I’m in danger.

Here’s to potential more than probable disfigurement. Both of the aforementioned facial area, and of the internal operation desk.
Which for the last week has had paper flying across it, people yelling, and navigation minions panicking as they attempting to divert my inevitable course.

In laymans terms, I’m fucked.


Up the proverbial creek with no paddling device.

And I don’t even mind anymore.

Whiskey coke please. Shots a many. Stat. At least if I’m drunk I won’t feel it when my face falls off.