The Crooked Knife

by Browneyedbluez

Em suggested I join Twitter to make professional contacts. Between new friends there, and the security of my diary, I may survive this move to New York./ Em said Twitter was a good place to blow off steam, but that's why I keep a journal. Bloody git.

37. Chapter 37

The Crooked Knife

By CKBarGuy and BrownEyedBluez

We don't own Twilight. We miss the bouffant.

Chapter 37

Wednesday, January 12, 2011 early AM

Dear Diary –

I know this pain. It's an old familiar friend and I hoped I'd never meet it again. It's a dead weight on my heart that makes me feel like I'm dying. I can't take this – he is so wonderful and warm and open. He shared the darkest, deepest wound of his heart with me tonight and I have no idea what to do with it. All I can do is cry: for him, for me. For us.

He trusts me. He said he trusts me! And I let him go on thinking I'm someone worthy of that. I'm horrible. I'm the lowest kind of creature, vile and filthy. And I'm so afraid he'll find out how depraved and sick I really am. He'll hate me then, and then I really will die.

Every day, he is sweeter. More wonderful. There isn't a kinder, gentler, more beautiful man in New York, and he's baring his soul to a harpy.

I don't deserve his kisses and caresses, but I need them and take them anyway. I have to have as much as he will give me before I tell him he doesn't deserve to be lied to the way I have lied.

He said she ruined him. And I knew exactly what he meant, because I was ruined, too. It took a long time, a lot of therapy, and I'm still such a mess, I don't even want to be fixed anymore.

I should stop this. He doesn't deserve to go through another heartbreak. I should put an end to it now, tomorrow, and let him go on rebuilding his life, without me. I should. But I can't.

And when I do find the strength to let him go, there won't be enough left in me to give him the reason. I can't tell him; I can't tell anyone, ever. Leaving him without even telling him why will be the cruelest thing I ever do.