Gibberish

I fear dark corners. I fear his face coming forth out of the darkness. I fear his smile and I jump at the thought of ever coming face to face with him again. But sometimes I dont know how to feel, sometimes I wish that it was violent and that I wasn't so passive. Sometimes I wish there was a knife or a gun held to me beacuse then I would know how to feel about it. But I question myself, and sometimes wonder if I've made up the fear. There is no reason to fear dark corners because that night happened in the middle of a room, not in a corner, not in darkness. So why do I fear this?

I dont know if I've ever told anyone this, but a year out of high school I saw him at a local restaurant. He hugged me, I allowed him to hug me and smile at me. I didnt want my friends to know, but it chilled me to the bone and fueled my anger. Then I saw him again, this time when I was alone. I walked the other way, had visions of shooting him, but continued to walk, hearing my name being called behind me. I never turned around. I never even glanced back at him.

June 27...my dark day. My five year anniversary. And I think I must start telling the truth. I must begin at the beginning of it all, recall all I can, and be brutally honest. Five years and it has almost disappeared from my daily life; sometimes I think it didnt even happen. But then I look at my writings from that period in my life and it resurfaces, assuring me that it did. I must stop making excuses and live my life, I must stop blaming him and asking "what if?" questions. This is the card i've been dealt. I must play it like a pro, but no more poker faces.