June 7, 2004

Age: 17 years 10 months 9 days

Okay, what do you want? I do not want to write in my journal. I guess in a way that means that I don’t want to talk to you. Now that I think about it that’s true. But, you told me to get my journal. I know that you want to talk. I know that we need to talk, and I really don’t want to avoid you. I need your… something. Umm, We are at the cottage, and I am content. I am joyful, but not happy. I’m relaxed, and I love feeling your presence in the beauty around me. But I am frustrated with the snappy way redacted and I have been talking. We keep acting like 3 year-olds, and I’m getting sick of it. It’s bringing me down. I’ve been flirting with him also, and I am dishonoring you. The way I am doing things is not right. It’s not your will. We can’t go around fighting like three-year-olds, wrestling, and hitting each other. It’s lame and pathetic. And I can’t lay close to him just so I am close to him. It’s wrong. I don’t think that’s your will, but I know it’s mine.

I’m so sick of it. I can’t be around him like this. Straying from your will is tearing me down. Satan is attacking both our relationship and me and redacted’s relationship. I love him, but I may not marry him. We can’t go around flirt fighting and expecting something productive to come out of it. This physical contact is not the way to go. We need to talk maturely and respect each other. At least let us treat each other like the best friends that we are. I love him and we don’t need to get married. I can’t like him anymore if things keep going this way. It’s become about physical fulfillment instead of friendship. And it’s not going any further. God, we have to talk (redacted and I).  I don’t know what to say, what topic, how to say it. I don’t know what. But we can’t be rude anymore. We can’t be 3 year-olds. I respect him. This just isn’t right. Help things go better. Oh, I’m so sick of it all. It’s not right. You need to be here, everywhere with us, and right now you’re not. Give us a good conversation. 


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