January 12th, 2000:

You could have walked away. You ask her: How do you keep yourself out of situations that require you to lie? “Nathan…?” You could have walked away. Life swirls around us, fate breathes in, breathes out, but you make your own choices. You opened your mouth, you invited me in.

November 5th, 2000:

I don’t care that you’ve hurt me anymore. I know I was a game, and I know you never cared. I know it will be a cold day in hell (although plausible, according to Dante) before you apologize to me. Do you even know why you should? Does that play out right in your head? Do you know that I’ve spent the past week staining my sheets, dampening my inner thighs, bleeding out the remainders of you? Yes, it was you, explanations are difficult. My insides are bruised… my psyche is battered… you’ve left me cold, dead, the body on the side of the road. I don’t care… I say that, I almost fully believe it, but… I do care that I let you treat me this way. I care that you were the slick-mouthed plastic liar, the man of smoke. I care that I spread my weaknesses out on the table and let you gather them up, greedy for prey. I care that it doesn’t matter that you hurt me, that you put me in the wrong, and that your excuses are all empty. And I care… especially… that you made me unknowingly play a part in hurting her.
I am blind when it helps my sanity. I am good at putting off what I don’t want to see. Blame me for finally opening my eyes. Blame me for having a conscience. Blame me for having courage. Blame me for all you want, but don’t blame me for your own wrong actions. You’re right… I don’t know what’s good for you— you were always the one to close the door on emotional display—but I know what’s good for me. I take responsibility for more than you know.
My mother always told me—“People in life will hurt you. Hold your head up, and forgive them. Love turns the world.” You’ve… killed… me, but I forgive you. I’m growing, I’m learning, and that’s all that really matters in the end. Maybe on down the road you will forgive me too, maybe even realize my pain. I’m not holding my breath. I see her in your eyes, and despite my actions, I only want your happiness.
Believe in yourself, and you will conquer worlds. Never forget your intensity, never extinguish your fire—but always remember that other people are affected by your actions. Love her, truly love her, and you will make things right.

"The greatest gift you can give another is the purity of your attention."—Anon.