I'm a fixer, by nature.

No, I won't fire off solutions as soon as I have discovered a problem. I will struggle against solving a problem. I will try to ignore it. I will pretend I have solved it.

In the end, I do not run from my problems though. There's a time when I rediscover the part of myself that digs her heels into the dirt and braces for what has happened.

She is the part of me that fixes things. She will go to great lengths to make amends. She is me, and I am more she then I am ready to admit. My conscience is clean when my head hits the pillow, and it is never for guilt and sin that I am kept awake at all hours.

My fading voice sings of love, but she cries to the clicking of time...

I've had time, and I've struggled hard. I've avoided it. I've pretended to have solved it.

When I can't fix something I start blaming myself. It was my problem. It was always in my hands. If my hands were more capable then I could solve this!

The truth is, my hands are capable. Strong and able, shaky but steady, soft and giving. My hands are more than willing and able to give the broken a second lease on anything and everything I can give them because everyone deserves a second chance. Some a third, a fourth, and a fifth. Why? They deserve it.

No. No, they often don't. They need it though. I, more than most people, can recognize this desperate need.

Do not misunderstand me, forgiveness is not my forte. I would more readily raise my hand to strike than to wipe away tears. I come to a point where I can understand that brand of pain because chances are I've felt it.

In this way, I am human.

In this way, I can improve the quality of life.

In this way, I am meaningful and I can give meaning to others.

The rain is falling and I believe, my time has come...

I will not grace you with a no name status because you, in all of who you are, might believe I would speak of someone else this way. I put so little past you, Brian, that I don't doubt that this would be the case. It is my failsafe.

There is something deeply wrong with you.

The common denominator in your failings is who you believe yourself to be and who you appear to be and who you really might be. These are all so disparate.

You, you and you are different and all masquerading as one when there really is no oneness. There is no substance except for what others give you to build upon.

This is why our falling out, in part, has left me so damaged. I had given you a vital part of myself and you built upon it, and then- for whatever reasons, you chose to take a wrecking ball to it. You destroyed not only my perception of who you were, but who you made yourself out to be and that vital part of myself.

My warnings of who I was, am and will be were true. I don't give warning for nothing. I warned you I was not the easy path and you chose to disregard that warning. You chose to take that path and when it came time to stick, when I needed it, you chose to leave for whatever reasons.

You notified me, notified is chosen for a reason, that our friendship was over. I think that I tried to ignore it, and then struggled, and then crawled back to you to be let in as I had let you into me. Your doors were barred from me, and in the end...

"I was not."

That sentence sums up all of what you had said to me. I, Gina, was not. Maybe someday you will understand the gravity of that statement. I don't think you will understand it until someone tells you, "You are not."

The fixer in me has struggled with your imaginary existence, and the fixer has screamed- as I have, for all of this. My misery, concerning this, has been ongoing. I did not ignore the problem, and did not ignore the fall out. I have stood here, and each morning I have woken I have thought, "Maybe he called and I missed it. Maybe there is something waiting for me on my computer screen and I have not seen it yet."

I have thought, "Oh god. It was just a terrible joke, and he is waiting until April Fool's to jump from the metaphorical closet and tell me it was a joke. A terrible, terrible joke. I always knew Brian had a sense of humor."

I actually thought of calling you last night, to talk.

I realized that I would be talking to a work of fiction though, and I have never had imaginary friends- even as a child. I can pass my able hands through you and I would be grasping for phantoms.

When I had promised to stay, I meant it.
When I told you I loved you, I meant it.
I do know what those words mean and I was prepared to back them up to the hilt.

It reminds me of the pain, I might leave behind...

I am not okay.
I may never be okay, to be honest. This is on your hands and you don?t honestly understand what it means to have that stain.
There is a long scar that bleeds daily, and it stretches over the entirety of who I am because I let you have the whole of me. There is a deep set fear of intimacy now, and a hollow that I refuse to fill because I don't believe in replacements.

I wish you no ill will, but I don't wish you anything good either. I don?t wish for ghosts, myths and gods.

Why would I wish for you?

You see without perceiving.
You hear without listening.
You touch without feeling.

I do not deny you existence, as you denied me and mine, because there is nothing to deny. There are masks on masks on masks. I refused to see the horror of it all until I was on the other side.

The humor of the situation is this: If anyone had warned me to the degree that I would now warn others if asked, I would not have believed them. The sweep was clean and I never saw it coming.

The irony: Brian, you believe not a word of this.

And I feel them drown my name, So easy to know and forget with this kiss, I?m not afraid to go but it goes so slow...

I am gone.

[The most reliable way to reach me at this point would be a telephone, should anyone from these forums wish to speak to me. -If you wish to wait, then there is always MSN where you don't have to worry about actually speaking to a human being.

I seriously doubt I will be returning here because of Brian, this situation and my inability to deal with it. Three months and very little progress means that this is not where I need to be and not where I will be for a good while yet, in the case that I ever want to return.


I'm sure I'll laugh even if you call to shout obscenities at me. I've got a strange sense of humor.

I sincerely wish the rest of you that read this the best that life can offer in the event I don?t come back.]