"Well, not really, I'm being stupid," my friend added. "But you know what I mean."
Now I do and only too well.
The way I began my last entry, a week ago, was a lie, both to myself and to the Faithful Five ¾, but then half this "online experiment" has been self-deception as well.
I knew exactly what brought on those blues the instant it happened, but to spell it out here would be to betray the woman who walked away with my heart and cleaned the sense from my skull.
My every instinct tells me to call her.
I yearn to reach across again from my darkness to hers, rekindle the light she took from me and hold out the hope of friendship.
Simple, deep, uncomplicated friendship.
All the "if onlies" are pointless.
I can't see what could possibly change, after what the Wildcat did and what, in the end, I said.
And in retrospect, I find it increasingly hard to see how she could have done otherwise, even though it seemed so cruel, and how I could have responded otherwise if I were to have kept any faith with myself.
I've kept my silence for several awful days since.
I know that she's hurting just as much as I am, but if I say absolutely nothing about what happened, this whole online "experiment" is over.
I'll never be able to 'blog anything again.
If you've got the stomach for any more of this, 'Wildcat and Wolf: a Christmas wail' won't give you all the bloody details. But it will explain what a damned fool I have been.
I think I'd rather have my fingernails extracted one by one than live through some of last week again.
Yet to pick up that 'phone and just do it could be like putting the gun back to my head.
11:28:01 PM link
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