yeah, ok.

OK. If you don’t want me to talk I’ll write in here. Because frankly, right now I know more about him than you do. And I’m not finished.

Saying that you’re a terrible person and all that stuff doesnt do anything. Self-pity will get you nowhere. Honestly, you would impress me right now if you stopped thinking about how you feel and started thinking about how you’re going to fix what you did. The best way to do that is to talk to the people he’s been confiding in lately to find out what he needs you to do. Like I said, that would impress me. *shrugs* It’s obviously your call. I’m not going to act superior here. I really dont give a fuck about my own feelings, except that I find it very hard to suppress my anger sometimes. I care most of all that things are remedied for this amazingly wonderful person who’s been left out in the cold. Feeling like a bad person is still narcissistic, so as much as you can avoid wallowing in that I think that would be good. What matters is figuring out HOW TO FIX IT. Cause its not my place to fix. And I’m done with trying.

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Later the same day:

I will NOT apologize for this entry. And I will NOT back down. Too often when I’ve confronted someone, the stress has gotten to me and I’ve compromised what I believe to be true just to end the fight. This time, it stops here. I can’t do that in good conscience this time, because it involves someone else AS WELL as me. I don’t hate you. I don’ t think I could hate you if I tried. I don’t think you’re a bad person at all, of course, and I still love you and I will miss you if this friendship gets screwed up. I’m not even really angry anymore. I’m just sad yet firm on where I stand. You could come up to me tomorrow and say, “I’d really like to just calmly talk about this,” I’d be more than willing to do so. But don’t expect an apology from me, because I don’t feel that I’ve done anything wrong. I feel that I did what I had to do to get through to you. Just as you’ve said time and time again, this is MY diary. If you don’t like what you read in here, then don’t read it. This diary is for me, and I wrote what I felt. And this is me, having a backbone for maybe the first time in my life, and I need that to be respected.