Dear Diary, it's one forty seven a.m.,

I was lying here tonight, thinking about you, and how time is passing and while I still think about you, because I'd be lying if I said that I didn't, the thoughts aren't the same anymore, not exactly. The fresh raw wound that was there, it isn't necessarily bleeding anymore, and I'm not as angry as I was. Not so viciously ready to strike out. Like a tiny little hole, the way air lets out of a tire, that you almost don't notice it happening, I realized that a lot of the screeching anger has passed. The hurt? It's there still. But the raging anger is passing. Oh, how I wanted you to hurt the way I hurt. Wanted you to feel the vicious pain and betrayal I felt when I had to feel the emptiness and loss that you never seemed to feel.

But that anger is finally lessening. And in the end, I guess I actually do want for you what I've wanted for you for all the years I've known and loved you. For you to be happy. Sad, isn't it? That that's what I've always wanted for you? Oh, it hurts still, to know that I'm sad, and the two of you are happy, or so it seems. To know that I was set to the side and disregarded and replaced so easily. Yes, that hurts. It will always hurt. But I'll always want for you what I always did want. You to be happy, and healthy, and safe and loved. Because that's just who I am.

And I thought about it, all the things I miss about you. Laughing together while we watched stupid television shows. Watching random movies, and discussing oddball things we found on the internets. Just the random things that we could always talk about, the things that we had in common, because we were so very random. I miss cooking for you, and cleaning up after you, and just being with you. That's the crux of it, isn't it? That I just miss being with you. With my friend, with everything about you.

And no matter what, that's gone now. That will be forever changed, even if you were to come back tomorrow, and we were to try and repair the breach of your being gone, there would be ghosts now. It would take work to try and heal the hurts now.

And I'm not innocent in all of it. I've cast stones too, and I know it. I struck out to cause pain as well, because I was so angry, and felt so violated, and so injured. And some of the violations were valid, and some were not, but I was too angry to even see clearly enough to do anything except strike out.

And now I miss you. And all I really want is to have things the way there were, when I was happy. When I could sit with you, and watch stupid television shows, and eat a quiet meal, and have a quiet conversation. When there wasn't anger, and there wasn't pain, and there wasn't this overwhelming sense of loss.

I can't change the past. I can't modify what happened, and I can't unring a bell. I also can't make you do something you don't want to do, and I can't bring you back to me if you want to be someplace else. But my feelings and thoughts are my own, even when nobody approves of them. And what I think about at two o'clock in the morning that I write down, so that I can finally go to sleep, to give me a little bit of peace is for my own sanity as well.

Be well, be happy, remember that you were loved, you were wanted, you are missed. Even if everything falls apart, you're still loved and wanted and missed.

Love, Crys