But I am still weak. So, so weak. The pathetic thing is, IF another chance ever stumbles along, I'll probably do the same thing. I am laughing at myself. For many, many years, I thought: "If only these people listened to me and took me seriously!" But maybe I never wanted to be heard. Maybe I just enjoy the suffering. I think I probably deserve the torment. All of it. I have no right to understanding or forgiveness. I feel so tainted and degraded and violated and worthless. The words are too crude, too vulgar. Oh, let everything be untrue. Let the memories dissipate with time, like dew that evaporates in the warm sunshine. I wish I could forget everything and have nothing to tell.