Setting off for ophir in an hour and a half's time. I should be looking forward to it but I am not. It seems the dunkin donut happiness has worn off. I put on Mayday, and even the song seems to tell this story. She said she was shocked and hurt by what I wrote. Is that what happens when you tell it like it is? Should we all resort to vagueness when we put our thoughts to words, weaving puzzling sequences of words, from now on?

My eyes opened at 4am. I reach around for the watch in the dark. The first thought which came to my mind was I don't need pity, even if I know that was not what she meant, but I don't need pity. The things we said to each other in a vain attempt to make things right only seem to make things worse. True, we have become close in a matter of weeks but that is where the danger lies, something constructed in haste is also one in which the cement is still damp. I don't know if you feel it but this pretty castle of cards is fast swaying in the wind.

I don't want pity.