I look back at the only journal I’ve written.

And I feel dead inside.

This week has been good to me. I should feel nothing but joy. But I am haunted by the knowledge that it all will soon probably disappear, and I will again have nothing but this room. I hate this room. Nothing brings me down more.

And then I look to the only other journal entry, and I remember the only comment I ever got on it. There was just the one, and what it said didn’t bother me. Rather, it was who said it.

And then I think about it. That thing I promised myself I wouldn’t consider. That thing I promised the only girl in the world I’ve ever truly loved I wouldn’t consider.

Suddenly, I’m considering it. It would be so easy, I think, just to let this shit go. I know a million way to do it, some painless, some excruciating. Some simple, some complex. Some easy, some difficult.

But I know I shouldn’t.

To do so would hurt everyone around me: my parents, my (few and far between) friends, my coworkers.

But I know I can’t.

Maybe if I did, though, it would change the things that make me feel this way. Maybe my roommate will realize what she does to me, how she makes me feel. Maybe things would change, and the next one would be different.

But I know I won’t.

Because I am sick, and this sickness, though it gives me the urges, also drives me to think: who will clean up after me? How will my parents cover the cost? They want to move out of state, and the cost of me doing this would stop them, so I can’t.

But really, what truly stops me is the knowledge that if I did, the girl whom I care about more than life itself would have nothing and no one left. I never ever want to harm her, and that would be the most efficient way of completely betraying that desire. If I did it, so would she. And that’s why I don’t.

I know I shouldn’t.

But I know...

Some part of me wants to. And that scares the living crap out of me.

All of this, because of one comment. Be cause of one person who hurt me a long, long time ago. Something tells me, there are other things about this feeling that I’m not facing. I just hope that the man I think of as the wizened monk can help.

Cause I hate feeling like this.