This is going to be a rather personal entry, so if you're a bit edgy about BDSM or any such thing... then why the hell are you reading my diary to begin with? Weird.

My current handle on MSN is 'Muffin of Doom'.

Not really related to anything, but it's an excellent example of just how fractured I am. Humor, there for everyone to see... and here, just as clear, the dark dive into waters too deep to be safe, too full of memories to be simple, and far too real to be ignored.

I've sat in front of a computer screen late at night time and time again. A few of those times... a few of those times I would let my finger run along the words appearing on the screen, feeling them, as if that distant contact could make them solid... or erase them. I've spent hours wondering if what I wanted was what I was getting. I've spent even more time wondering if what I was getting was what I wanted. I've had doubts, confusion, over and over again.

I've written out some of it. Some of it has stayed locked away in my head though, the moment where my choices and decisions were far beyond what I was able to cope with. I've run, turning off the computer, hiding in sleep or sex or just wandering Elsewhere. I've had second thoughts, third thoughts, all of it.

Do you see? Anyone there, anyone with a relationship that has you staring at a screen, anyone who has to deal with urges and needs that society has insisted are Wrong... you've been here. You've wondered time and time again if those words on the screen, the few moments of pleasure, the life or actions or name you have to hide to survive, if it's worth the hell. You wonder if it's real. You wonder if it's enough. You wonder if anything could ever be enough.

God, the horrible twisting inside, as if those wonders and worries are coming to life, sharp stones filling you, leaving you to ache, not letting you feel half the time. That's the worst of it, that the more you worry, the harder it becomes to feel and experience the very thing that you thought was worth the worry. So confusing.

There are days when I don't even want to LOOK at the computer. I'm afraid that the good things will end, that there will be nothing left but dust and electrons, even those far-too-distant words gone. Bluescreen. Nothing.

This... this is why I tried suicide. Not because my life wasn't good enough, not because I thought I deserved to die, but because right then, right now, things are... pleasing. Not perfect, but there's the chance for perfection. I'm happy.

And I'm afraid that this happiness will turn to nothingness.

I'm afraid that I will somehow fail to let the ones I care about know how much they matter to me.

I'm afraid that I will stop standing up for what I believe, that I'll just bend over and take it out of exhaustion.

I'm afraid that since I'm so close to having my life, the life I dreamed of, that fate or karma or just my own stupidity will rob me of it.

I'm afraid that I will close my eyes, and when I open them again, the bad things that nip at my heels will have finally caught up to me.

I'm afraid.

All I can do, the best thing I can do, is this. Write what I feel. Live my life in hope. Keep going.

I WILL keep going.

*shrugs slightly*

Meh. Seriousness. Uncomfortable Jax now.

*wanders off*