damik's Diaryland Diary

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Hard

It is hard, very hard for me to resist the compulsion to go on here and write, to risist the compulsion to jot down idea's phrases or bits of poetry that come into my head during the course of the day. It is hard for me to let go. But I can no longer defend myself day in and day out. Every time he and I get into a fight, I have to endure his sarcastic remarks about what I've written, or might write. Defending the reasons I wrote something long, long ago. And the hurt I feel when he tells me something I've written is stupid. Its not worth it to me anymore, even if I never shared another written thought with him, he would be angry about what he assumes I wrote. If I never write again, he will never have that to get mad at me for. I destroyed all my poems, except for the one's on the site, I have yet to muster up the strength to distroy them. I want to hold on to them, I want to keep the words I have written, I want them to still exist. But he will find them and he will be hurt and he will get mad at me. This diary and my poems are the last remaining proof that I ever wrote, they too will be gone soon. When it won't hurt so much to let them go.

12:23 p.m. - 09-15-01
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