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I don’t want to talk about it, please don’t push the subject. I know it’s happening and it’s real but I wonder why everyone feels like it is the only topic of conversation I care to discuss. Don’t you realise I think about it every waking moment, whenever I am on my own, driving, running trying to sleep. The last thing I want is to be reminded when I may happen to have been distracted by something else for a brief second. I know it’s really fucking unfair! It’s awful and you think me heartless to just shrug my shoulders and maybe even utter C’est la vie. I’ve built my defences, they’ll come tumbling down soon enough but leave me alone at the moment. Leave me in this place where I can do my odd things. I don’t know why it makes me feel better it just does.

I still want to be able to use my blog as my therapist but dark poignant things aren’t flowing out of head. And I suppose there is nothing to say that I haven’t already said. Maybe I’ll just keep posting links back to old posts. Now there’s an idea.

I really wish K was here, he will be in about a month for a few days but I’m certainly not going to ruin his short time back by bothering him with my fucked up head.