Seems that J decided on the same blog print that I had. Not that it should matter, but I really don't feel comfortable with that.
Not that she would stumble upon this blog, but it is a very small world, as the cliche goes.
Why I even continue reading hers is beyond me. It isn't healthy, but at the same time I am glad to know that life seems good for her. I check in once in a great while. I miss her, but I don't miss the mess. I miss her calm way of viewing the world. It was like medicine. It was like poison.
I never would want to speak to her again. I want her to speak to me about forgiveness.
I think I will only be able to let go if she forgives me.
It won't happen.