Grr...I don't have writer's block, I have choose-a-character block. And you guys can't help me with suggestions, because then you'll know the answers . I'm sorry! I've really wanted to work on this, but time is lacking. And my backpack is chock full of forbidden technology - my dad's camera, my iPod Shuffle, my portable radio/iPod player.

I wrote a certain mucho important one, but I'm going to post it at the end...sooo...


What've I done?

What'll I do?

Where will I stand?

Where do I stand with you?

Lies. All lies, lies in the form of a question. I know where all the answers lie...and yet, I am afraid to find out. Afraid of information, for once. Afraid of you, and how you see me. Afraid of this secret I cannot know. Afraid of what happened to my best friend. Afraid to see exactly how badly I failed this test they call life.

I know you're hiding it, like you've always hidden everything from me. Your past, your future, your present, all locked tight away from me, and the key is dangling right in front of my nose - you're willing to give it to me, yet you pretend you won't let me know, and still, I pretend not to notice it. Perhaps, if we had never been involved with you two, this would never have happened to her.

She would still be her. And I would still be me.

And yet, you...or rather, someone connected to you, took that away from us. You took her innocence, you took her trust, and you took my heart, metaphorically speaking. She'll never be the same, and I don't know why, but I'll still be her friend - I was angry with you, for causing her the trauma she went through, for hiding all these secrets from me, and angry with him, because I'm always angry at him, but not without a reason. He's a scoundrel.

I was angry with you, for giving me these thoughts - but I guess I never learn, do I? I never learn...how ironic. I feel foolish, childish, in front of you, and I always have, even when you and her were still...still...going to...it breaks my heart to remember it. You and her, so happy. Me, so angry with myself. Him, falsely there for me. Me, taking the opportunity as I have always advised against. You and her, estatic that I had found true love. Me, smiling with a broken heart. Him, seeing piercingly through my front. You, distraught. Her, broken. Why? I still do not know. Perhaps the gravity was too much for her, the stress of her job, and you, and the secret...

You, distraught. Her, broken. You, withdrawn. Her...empty. She's gone, and there's nothing I can do. She is regaining herself, I believe, but she will never be the same. Do I blame you? Yes. Do I wish she'd never fallen in love with you? Yes. Do I curse your secrets? Yes. Would I still throw my life away for you, does my heart still beat impossibly fast every time I see you, am I in love with you? Yes. Yes. Yes.

I shall address them, when they ask me these questions, as though I know what I am talking about. I shall be a hypocrite, so that they will not be in a position as I am. I shall pass on knowledge I do not possess. I'm not going to go through what she did - I'll give you up - I stop poking my nose in your family's business - I'll cut myself off from you...

And as I look at you, I forget these promises. Tell me. Tell me everything.

Tell me all your secrets...