If I've decided that I'm going to live only 4 more years then I'd need to live each day as the last day of my life. Which means I need to tell all the people I've hurt involuntarily that 'hey, I'm sorry' and I need to tell all the people I care about that 'hey, I care for you'.

When I die what will happen to my blog? My diary? My books? My music? I'll have to make a will. I don't have anything else to bequeath. I'll take my pain with me.

Even this thought isn't enough to give me courage. To tell a very special person I care. Because it's not meant to be. And his answer will kill me.

(And to think the pain reared its ugly head when I shared my excitement of getting Romance in my life! And to think that he still can't figure out!).