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5:09 p.m. - 2006-07-31

It was supposed to be a joke, you know?

The kind where there is mutual laughter on both sides. I was wrong.

What had actually transpired was a big reminder of the delicate nature of the female mind. How easily something can be misunderstood and taken personally and I, the man in this equation am left grasping for understanding to what actually happened.

The conversation drifted to the subject of children. As in having children. The person I was talking to had made it clear that they wanted blonde haired little boys. No one in my mind deserved children more than she did. She is a doting, and loving person of which I have the utmost confidence, and trust. My next comment didn�t sit too well.

�You know, if you change your mind about having kids, you could always buy ken dolls and put diapers on them�� I said.

�That�s not funny�

And she was gone.

Only after realizing she had left, I tried to understand why she felt offended by it. In the three years I have known her she has never left me like that. Then after several hours hard thought it struck me.

I must really be an assh*le. My brain had neglected to remind me of a recent procedure she had undergone to remove a cyst from her uterus. Now, understand that she is the type of person to downplay injuries, or illness. She is very independent minded and self reliant. She also hates going to the doctor. But she said she was fine, and I took her for her word.

Hindsight tells me that maybe, she wasn�t telling me everything that had happened to her. That maybe, she had suffered long term damage, and would be unable to have kids. I also took into account her nature. To assume she wasn�t good enough for anyone to want to have kids with her.

I ended up writing a 6 page letter to her. Mainly in a vain attempt to try and explain, or apologize for what I had done.

You see, I am especially hard on myself when it comes to certain things. If by my own actions I cause harm, or distress for someone I care very deeply for, it tears me up inside. My stomach was in knots, my heart was heavy with guilt. She didn�t deserve to be upset like that. Even if it was an honest mistake, I should have thought about it more before opening my big f*cking mouth.

It made me feel as if I was just like every other moron who can�t keep his mouth shut. To be labeled, or worse SEEN as just another stupid guy was insulting, and degrading. For as serious as I take my friendships, it felt that I had lost this one, with no hope of recourse. This was it, the beginning of the end. Why such a dismal outlook? She will forgive me you say? I�m overreacting you say? Past history says I.

I do not like to think about all the friendships, and loves I have lost in a heartbeat. One misunderstanding and it was over. There was no recourse, or forgiveness. This being the case it is easy to see why I panicked into writing such a long letter.

I believe that there is such a thing as saying too much. I also believe that saying nothing might be worse. Such as a feeling of passiveness in the matter, and I didn�t care about what I had done. Which isn�t the case at all. So when I feel guilty, I write. A lot.

I love this girl.

She has been nothing but sweet to me. Even from the start she was friendly, and giving and just adorable in her willingness to gain my attention. And I took notice.

As fate would have it she was introduced to me via my diary. Having been read by a GUY friend of hers, who told her to read it for herself. (When a guy, refers a female friend to read about another guy, that�s one hell of an endorsement.) This girl, is the maker of the now famous red velvet pillow from my youth. A gift from a stranger purely out of consideration for fulfilling a past loss of a childhood friend.

Early on, I wasn�t prepared for this kind of generosity. Having grown up poor, and the black sheep of my school I wasn�t used to people being kind to me. That just didn�t happen. So when a incredibly beautiful girl makes something for me, for no reason at all�. It has a profound impact on my emotions. And my thinking. Such a sweetheart she is�

Sunday night was one of the hardest nights I�ve experienced in many days. Knowing it was my fault made it that much harder a cross to bear. I couldn�t talk to her to say I was sorry. There was nothing I could do to make it all go away�

She knows I�ve had a hard life. To include the loss of my own baby. This was soon followed up by the loss of the mother to be by her own unfaithfulness. To cheat on me, her fianc� with a mutual friend. The days that followed were the hardest days of my entire life. It was then that the thought of death comforted me rather than facing the reality of the loss of both mother and child, and there was nothing I could do about it. That was my lesson in pain. In loss, and in deceit and betrayal. To listen to the laughter of her and her lover as I cried asking her why she did what she did.

�Why not?� came her reply.

Those are the words which burned these scars on my arms. Made me hate, and distrust anyone who tries to get closer to me. I let myself be led. And I suffered the consequences of trusting her when she told me there was nothing to fear.

I am sorry for hurting you dear girl. There is no way I can say it for it to carry more meaning than simple words can convey. I feel it deep inside where you cannot see. Knowing I caused you to doubt me is very painful. I wish I could take it back�.
As the days pass I do not know what will happen. So I sit and wait with baited breath, feeling the end come nearer and nearer. Preparing myself for what I see as the inevitable. Hoping I am wrong and imagining what might come of this.

So, it comes down to this�. I am scared.

Dominance aside, I am just an ordinary man. True I enjoy my control, but I do so knowing there is a delicate balance which must be maintained. Trust in one another, knowing the other will do no harm. That�s where I failed you. I betrayed your trust in me to do no harm. Hurting you in the worst place anyone can. Your heart.

Whether she decides to forgive me for what I have done, I wanted her to know I will always care for her. In my case it took 6 pages of handwritten words to convey that. I just hope I didn�t say the wrong thing�..again.

I miss you.
Ghost

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