This may seem a bit confusing, but these are large parts of my journal that I'm putting in here. Just to explain.

And if you tilt it just right, just so, there it is again, the full spectrum. But only if you let your eyes go properly wonky. And there, right there, is a touch of hot pink. How delightful. The only light I have is from one of those little lamps that you have only to touch to turn on. That, and this frightfully harsh, glaring screen. Seriously, I can’t look properly mysterious when I look so owlish.

And if you turn up the light enough, you won’t see any of our supposed flaws at all, you’ll be simply blinded, simply and gloriously blinded. And maybe, just maybe, the fluid in your eyes will start to boil, and rupture through, and run down your cheeks in a scalding clear gel.

It nearly stops my heart every time I happen upon it by accident, such a shock it gives, but such a soothing image once I adjust. You can’t really deny it, that this is what I rely on, health and sanity. Give me just a few more seconds and you just might save me from myself. I’d like that, if it just lifted me up and wrapped me up, and nobody ever saw me again, and that was all I had. I could live, hanging there with just the sound of it forever. All I really need to survive is his voice, surrounding me. I don’t even really need to see his face, though he is lovely, just have his voice around me forever.

I wanted to take a look at you and see something nobody else sees, nobody else would know, and keep it for myself. I swear, with all that I have, that I would not tell a soul. I’m not asking you to be with me, only to trust me, so that I can be real to you. That is all I really want. I was forgotten by the one that could see me, like an imaginary friend, and I need a new child to believe in me. Will you be so credulous? Will you be so gullible? Will you remember that I am alive?

I told you not to tell me the reason I feared that you were there for. But, like all the things I told you, you didn’t listen much. You told me that you were there to jump. I was there for the view. You know, I went back to that place yesterday, when you were away. I didn’t want you to know how weak I was. I looked over the edge, and thought of what you must have been thinking when you were there. You know, I could almost see my reflection in the water below me. Could you see yourself that day? Did you not see anyone with you? Because I couldn’t see anyone with me. But there I was, on the edge, and what did I see but you walking toward me. We stood together on the edge, and I could see us in the water. We stood together on the brink of nothingness, and it was everything we could have wanted. We didn’t say a word, but we stood there and knew each other’s thoughts. I leaned out, but you didn’t move. You didn’t need to. As surely as you had pulled a rope I came back. I told you that I wasn’t there for that. But you said that I was. I had to at least see it, and in a way, I did jump. But you were there, and you pulled me back. I wonder who pulled you back.