Ah ha!

I wring my hands for the second time this night, pondering what exactly wringing your hands does indeed look like.... There is something missing, as always. That something that I write in nearly every entry of mine, trying to peice together the links of my happiness. But what goes often unsaid, in place of it all- is that now, there is one person to fill in the gaps of the dozen hollow many that had paraded around here at one time. Burden, no? Dangerous, no? I leave again with questions, and common-sense statements: Is it safe to have one person to call to? Is anything safe nowadays? Love isn't safe, living is argueably unsafe...We can never 'play it safe.' We can never just... be. I don't know what i mean by all this. Maybe this is just the spatter of a jealous girl needing devotion, needing security from friends, family and the like. And devotion, by me is hard to come by. I set my standards... impossible, jeez. I make internal enemies with people, and if you second guess me for any of them... there goes your ticket down the drain. Silly, I know. But I am just in the sense of my unjustness. I don't forgive and forget no, I forgive and caution... I forgive and internally bear these jealousies and false accuastions. Gosh, this is bad. By this I am eternally internally wounded- even if you never meant to wound me. Ask me what this means, go ahead- it's all code.