I wrote, in the last entry, that I felt left out in the cold.

Ironic.

Last night, I received an ‘add request’ on Yahoo – from him/you….

I hadn’t known you’d deleted me. When did you do that, I wonder? Was it before or after you had your weekend with X? Was I deleted, last week, when you were saying you must write and tell me all about it?

You sent a message, too, with the add request – ‘Wanted you back on my list’. Really. How gratifying for me, to know I’m wanted back on your list. You said maybe you could be better ‘if only for a bit longer’. Oh, I see…a bit longer. While it suits you to still have me on your list, is that it?

I feel like some short of product on a shelf, pick it up, use it, put it down, decide you’re finished with it…then ‘oh no, hold on, I think I’ll use it for a bit longer’.

I feel terribly humiliated. When I think of what I wrote, in my letter of mid-September to you. About how it hurt so much to remember that you’d said ‘you’ll probably be deleted in a few months’. You said that as we sat overlooking the sea, here, in my home town, after I ‘brought’ you over here, to stay with us. And I told you in my letter, how I felt like a part of me was being ripped out, witnessing how I was being pushed into the margins of your life. When you knew how much I hurt, how could you delete me? You can’t say it was ‘cos the sight of my name annoyed you – as you’ve said before. It’s not like I was often online, recently. Well, maybe my name just spoiled the look of your list.

I still have this almost primeaval urge, to grab you, to try to get you to believe how real my caring for you was/is…

If you were to say sorry, to try to explain WHY you did this…if you were to be real with me, then perhaps it would be worthwhile, me saying ‘yes’ to your add request.

But I reckon you’d be unlikely to try to explain or apologise. No time for that sort of thing, eh? That’s not what you want – you want to chat – if only for a bit longer.

I’m a human being. As I said to you, it hurts me twice over, all this. Firstly it hurts my feelings, it bruises my heart. Then it hurts as much again (if not more so) because I feel for you, and I want to ‘make it better’ for you.

But me saying yes, and acting like everythings all right – that’s not really making it better. It’s just allowing you to continue in your fantasy world, when nothing is allowed to change, or get better, at all.