Dear Diary,

Well. What to say. Had a hard night. For one, I decided to call Red and confront him about the way I was feeling. He assured me that he had misunderstood my idea a little bit as far as the time frequency, and that what he was doing was the same thing he always does with a twist- but it had never occurred to him that it was anything like I proposed.

I suppose I can see all that and anyway, it was very important for me to express my anger. The thing about me and anger- I am afraid to express when I am really unhappy because I fear that it will ruin my friendships. But the truth is I swallow it and swallow it, then I get resentful and it ends up ruining my friendships anyway. I mean, look at what happened with Alphie. It just got to the point where I couldn't stand him and would fly into a rage at the littlest thing.

So, that's settled with Red. Then later we were talking and I guess I went into the realization that M doesn't really love me. I mean, I have been thinking this and hoping it for a year. But the truth is he is living his life and makes no effort to be with me or even connect with me. As mind boggling as it seems to me, it's very possible that he has moved on and I mean nothing to him. When I actually felt the ramifications of this in my heart, I could feel all the intense pain that I have been afraid to feel. I feel like my heart has been broken all over again. It is a year later and I am still lying in my bed weeping. Never in my life has my heart felt so shattered, so broken.

So there are no excuses, no apologies, my heart is broken. Still. I have not moved on. I have done a lot in the way of education and personal healing and trying to take care of myself. I have lost almost 20 pounds and then have started putting it back on just as fast. I feel bereft. It is not about being alone, because if it were, there have been opportunities to fill that hole and I am not interested. This person was very special to me. I cared about him. Perhaps more than he cared about me. Maybe he was not capable, or maybe just not that type of person. It doesn't matter.

Maybe my heart has always been broken, from the beginning, from the time I was a child. And as each man has come into my life and left, I have felt that pre-existing wound deeper and deeper. As a matter of fact my broken heart was like an invitation, pulling in every man who would make me feel it again and again. Deeper and deeper every time. For whatever reason, M has been the best, and therefore, the worst.

No one else seems to understand what I am going through- what it is like to have a constant pain in my chest. To hope beyond all hope that this person will miss me and come back to me. But the hope is too much- out of proportion to the situation maybe- too hooked into this old wound. More than M could ever fill, maybe not even about him, really.

I am so tired of hiding my broken heart.

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