Trust me. If I wanted to read your stuff, I would. But I don’t. Because I don’t want to. But I want to be able to let the crap out too. This is the only place I know of. If it is such a big deal, I will delete it and just keep it all bottled up inside again. I thought you wanted me to get rid of this stuff instead of keeping it inside. This is my way of doing that. But I guess I’m not allowed to since it’s just one more thing I do that you don’t like.
We are drifting further and further apart with each passing day. I used to could tell you anything and you would never tell a soul. That’s not the case now. You don’t like the things I do. I keep doing more and more things to make you angry. But you think everything is still ok. But it’s not. We are falling apart, and there seems to be no way we can fix this.
I don’t want to know what you are thinking. I wish you wouldn’t assume that I do.
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