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I'm not sure I should be writing in here anymore. I don't have much to say about the journey of trans people these days since I'm derailed. Still, I kind of need to vent emotions I'm feeling and there are some I don't have any other outlet for other than this blog.

I had this friend. She lives really far away from me and our relationship was really complicated. I was never sure how she really felt about me but, over time, my feelings grew and deepened for her. She felt like the first person in my whole life who really understood me, who might love me for who I was.

She was sick, though. I mentioned her in a video once. I'd said, if given the choice, I would sooner save her than save the rest of the world in its entirety. Some of you thought that sounded sweet or nice but, in reality, I said it because much of her illness is my fault. She was sick all along but something else happened; something between us and, as a result, she got much sicker.

I couldn't deal with it so I stopped writing for a while. Nearly seven hundred miles of distance made it easy to avoid her but impossible to escape the guilt. For three months I agonized over the mistakes I'd made.

I reached out eventually but it was too late, I guess. She was so angry with me. I tried to understand. She told me she would write emails explaining everything I'd missed, telling me just how guilty I was and how deep her hatred extended. I wanted to get them. I was ready to be punished for the mistakes I'd made. I just wanted things to get better between us. Despite all my best efforts I loved her even though I'd only met her twice.

I wonder if you're reading this. I feel so ridiculous and small. Your livejournal is updated and you talk about this other girl. I guess you finally found someone you could love. You probably hate me now more than ever. If I'm lucky maybe you're just ambivalent. Either way, you're gone. I thought I was alright with that. I tried my best to make peace and accept that this was a damnation of my own making. Still, there are days when my heart still breaks because I miss you. You were my little prince. I still love you and I still care but I won't write again. Your silence tells me everything I need to know. You're better off without me. If I had the courage I would slash open my eager flesh in penance. I wish I could take it all away, trade my life for yours. There's more but I can't bear to write it. I still wish every day that you'll be well, that your miracle will come but I am anathema to all that is good in your world. I am the bleakness, the emptiness, and the pain. I failed you. I'm sorry.