damik's Diaryland Diary

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Fill one hand with wishes, the other with shit....

I am such an fucken nimbrod. Too dumb to live. I know that I'm a bitch, there is no other word for what I am. I want him to be more thoughtfull, respectful. I just want my dreams and desires to be as important as his dreams and desires are to me. I've nevere held him back. What ever dream he has chosen to presue, I've always stood behind his as a cheerleader. Succeed or fail, it didn't matter. I was just there for him. And I wanted the same thing for myself. I didn't want him to tell me how I was going to fail, I wanted him to tell me I was going to suceede. But thats not him, and me tearing him down and making him feel guilty is never going to change that. It doesn't make me feel better, and it doesn't make the situation any better, so I'm going to stop, I say that now, but in the moment of truth, I will forget, I will yell, and all my promises to myself will be broken.

He read my diary again, lied to me, and didn't even take the steps to cover his tracks. My personal belief is if your going to lie, don't insult my intelengace by making it so easy to ferret out the truth. I don't feel safe writing here any more, but I don't want to give it up, or lock it up. I guess its a risk I have to take, I eleminated the two other options, so all I'm left with is risking that he might read it again, and again. I guess that means I can't write about my numerous, hot, passionate affairs. Damn.

12:55 p.m. - 09-23-01
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