Jamais

No one ever reads this, which doesn't mean I should actually write things here, because who knows what kind of scary people are stalking my website, but at the same time ...

I've become dreadfully addicted to writing to people, instead of just in my good old leather-bound journal. So here is what I wanted to say. I'm going to be brief - I have things to do.

I wish that people would leave comments when they visited my blog. I think it would be really cool to know what they were thinking when they got to the end of an entry. But if I ask for comments, then I'll get them only from a few people, and ...

Okay, so I think I was basically all the hits on my site today. Which is fine, I get it. People could care less about what I write. But I wish they didn't. It sort of makes it feel as if they could care less about me too.

I wish I didn't care so much. A wonderful person told me the thing they see in me is someone caring. Which I appreciate. But at the same time, I wish I didn't. Because I care I have to deal with the weird emotional swing around that happens inside. And I don't like it. And worse yet, is that now I have to pretend.

I've said it a million times, I just don't want to have to pretend. I don't want to. And I know I am being smart, prudent, polite, appropriate, everything - that the other person is right and I am quasi-wrong is inconsequential - it just means I have to be something I'm not. I have to pretend not to care.

I know. I know. I know. But it doesn't make it any easier. ~Heather