12-18-02 @ 7:43 am EST

I'm sad at the moment because there is somebody I'm trying to trust, but at every turn, I just feel they do not care about me. That negates what they've told me over and over...but they've been online at least three times since I last wrote at least a few weeks ago...are they busy with the holidays? I wish I knew. I so hate this do-they-don't-they-like-me routine that we just keep going through. I really wanted to believe them...I gave them the chance to tell me they didn't care for me, but they said to trust them, and I wanted to believe them...

Will I have reason to feel sorry after posting the above and for doubting? Or will it just continue, this game of cat and mouse? I keep seeking you out, but you keep running away while telling me to trust you...which will it be? I already told you what I want. What do YOU really want? Please just tell me, so I can stop wondering. Anything, even rejection, is better than always wondering, every time I see your name online.

I really wanted you to also keep up with me in this journal (I kept up with you in yours, at least, until you deleted it without warning...you didn't even know I was reading, did you?), but from what I can tell you don't even read it, so you won't even see my plea to you. Yet I can't write to you again either if in fact you are going to get back to me on your own. Whatever I do will just reinforce my lack of trust, when I WANT to trust you. What am I supposed to do? You said you understood how I am feeling; and so why do we keep doing this?

I wish you would just let me know what you want. I tried to lay my cards on the table, but with you, I don't even know what you're holding hidden in your hand anymore. Or if there's even anything hidden there at all.

I'm thinking of the Hiawatha National Forest again. I so badly want to go. I hope I get the chance this upcoming summer or autumn.

I want to walk barefoot through the forest, over rainbow leaves of impossible hue. Sometimes they will feel like velvet; sometimes like silk. The autumn air renders them cool and damp and they will not even crunch as I pass by.

The sun won't be shining, but it doesn't need to. If it did my eyes would likely be overpowered anyway. Purple and yellow, contrasting. I don't even have to look down, for it stretches on forever, beneath trees so tall I feel like a blade of grass.

Pine, maple, aspen. They all whisper in their own languages. I don't understand what they're saying, but that's all right. Understanding doesn't matter.

The moment I see any living thing I will feel awe. This doesn't happen back in the real world. Everything has a spirit of its own here. It's very easy to believe, when you walk through the forest all alone.

The thing is, the solitude, and the faint moan of the wind far above, are making me sad, but I don't know which will make me sadder; this, or leaving completely.

I don't think I want to leave, but we all will have to, at some point.

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