Until Further Notice

Due to certain secretive readers who have recently made themselves known, I will not be writing for a long while.

It seems that no one can be trusted.  In one person's anger, he tried to get his ex-boyfriend in trouble, which led to both pointing fingers at me, which led to an interrogation by Tristan who doesn't believe I had nothing to do with it.  Well, I did, in that I wrote this blog which was his idea to begin with.  And yes, I accept full responsibility in that I didn't HAVE to write it.

Tristan, Jake, whoever the hell is supposed to be my mate, I'M NOT OKAY.  Yes, I clearly remember the part of every vision, dream, premonition and peer-led warning where you won't show up until I'm curled up in the fetal position guarding "our child", whatever that means, screaming for you to save us.

Well guess what?  I'm assuming the position!  I'm tired of being under attack all the freaking time!  I get blamed for being a traitor and yet where is everyone, huh?  Tristan is always soooo quick to believe I'm behind anything I get indicated for.  Jake left without warning and never told me the truth!  And mutual friends I thought we could finally trust slithered around and stabbed me in the back and for what?  Because of their own private drama?

I'm sorry!  I'm sorry for everything!  I don't know what the hell I'm doing in this world and every time I try to do things right, I always end up doing it all completely wrong!  What am I supposed to do?  What am I supposed to say?  All I want, all I've EVER wanted, was just to be with the one who loves me.  That's it.  I don't care about big weddings, fancy baby announcements, white picket fences..... I just want to be with my mate.  I just want to be happy.

But there is no one coming to save the day.  I've begged and pleaded with God to bring Jake back, but he remains in the wind.  Just when I think maybe Tristan and I can be friends again, confidantes again, someone I can go to and talk with and trust, something happens and I'm his #1 enemy.

I remember the first dream I had about all this.  Clutching my daughter to my chest, crawling under the kitchen table as the men in black shadows banged and splintered the doors and windows, screaming to the intercom I knew he was listening to that I'm sorry, that if he won't save me then save my daughter, our daughter.... I remember so vividly the absolute terror of feeling death at the door, of screaming at the top of my lungs as hands covered in black gloves lunged at me.....

Doesn't anyone hear me screaming now?