November 21st, 2001

unkind, why, fate


Sometimes, I'm not sure if the stories I create in my mind are not real, at least on some plane of existence. I yearn so much for some of it to be real--at least the love. Because that's what I so badly want right now--the love to be real.

It's not as bad as it was some seven years ago; I am stronger, but just as alone. I have friends, but I can't... won't trust them with the contents of my heart and soul, not to that depth. The dreams that sound silly, although I do plan to keep them (six kids, that type of dream), I can tell them, but not the ones closest to my heart and soul.

The ones where I don't care what gender the person(s) I fall in love with are, only that they love me for who I am and will become. The fact that I may fall in love with two or more people, I mentioned once I think, I haven't mentioned it again. But it once was at the topmost of my dreams, although I am no longer sure as to the validity of that dream. It was still nice, though.

It's better that I have the friends, but I still don't trust my parents with most of my dreams, nor most of what happens to me.

I sometimes wish for my real impossible dreams to come true.
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