Michael
What are you doing, still coming here? There is nothing new to see on this journal and there won't be, not for you, not under the circumstances. I have moved back to my original journal, largely because of you and your claims of people stalking me. By your own decision, you are no longer a part of my life. It wasn't my choice, I didn't want it, but because I care for you, I am doing my best to respect it. It may be nothing for you, just press a button and I cease to exist in your world, but this is exceedingly painful and difficult for me.
I made contact, one sentence, because I was overwhelmed after seeing the flooding in Brisbane. It is the least involved contact I made with anyone with whom I am acquainted, even tangentially, in Queensland. I took great care to make it so. Other than that, I think I have been admirably faithful to your desire to sever contact, despite a thousand lingering unanswered questions. I reestablished you on my friends-list in the hope that you might leave some update indicating that you and your family were okay. I was as discreet as possible about it. Since you have been online, you are obviously unharmed by the flood, that is knowledge enough for me.
You have torn out a piece of my life, a piece that meant a great deal to me. I have to live with that wound, it is bloody and hurtful, it will be for a very long time. You are not welcome to lurk around the periphery of my life as though it was I who turned my back on you. If you want something, have the decency to deal with me directly and honestly, I deserve that much.
Unless you have some reason to be here, and say so, when I am certain that you have read this, I will likely once again revoke your access. Even after considerable thought, I can discern only two likely reasons for your coming here: to torment me with what I have lost, which is cruel; or to go back through old entries to hurt yourself, which is several orders of magnitude worse and though it breaks my heart to even think it, seems the more likely of the two.
I made contact, one sentence, because I was overwhelmed after seeing the flooding in Brisbane. It is the least involved contact I made with anyone with whom I am acquainted, even tangentially, in Queensland. I took great care to make it so. Other than that, I think I have been admirably faithful to your desire to sever contact, despite a thousand lingering unanswered questions. I reestablished you on my friends-list in the hope that you might leave some update indicating that you and your family were okay. I was as discreet as possible about it. Since you have been online, you are obviously unharmed by the flood, that is knowledge enough for me.
You have torn out a piece of my life, a piece that meant a great deal to me. I have to live with that wound, it is bloody and hurtful, it will be for a very long time. You are not welcome to lurk around the periphery of my life as though it was I who turned my back on you. If you want something, have the decency to deal with me directly and honestly, I deserve that much.
Unless you have some reason to be here, and say so, when I am certain that you have read this, I will likely once again revoke your access. Even after considerable thought, I can discern only two likely reasons for your coming here: to torment me with what I have lost, which is cruel; or to go back through old entries to hurt yourself, which is several orders of magnitude worse and though it breaks my heart to even think it, seems the more likely of the two.