For as long as I can remember I’ve always imagined tragedy in my life. I would imagine losing a dear loved one, someone close to my heart; the hurt of having that person stolen from me or from this earth and the ensuing pain and sadness it caused. At times to I even imagine my own death, how it would be like in the last few moments and those who would be around me. It’s at those times I remind myself what good friends these people and what they mean to me. It sounds morbid… sick, an act of self pity at times but knowing who would stand by my side gave me strength. Feeling something, if anything brings a dash of reality to my life and for that little fraction of a second I know I’m real…

This time it’s too real. Games are played, won and lost and always at a price. That’s why I despise these things. What then does it take to correct mistakes made or when there is already an open perception of what you seem to be? Has it got to be taken this far? And what if your mouth is gagged that no matter how long you scream or how loud you shout no one will hear you because you are your own prisoner & executioner? People whom you once thought you knew aren't that anymore as the carpet is pulled from underneath you but no matter what I've got your back. This is not sex in the city, there are no happy endings and no "lives happily ever after…" all I wished was that it had happened sooner, before I dug my own hole and jumped in head first. But maybe... just maybe, he was right, maybe I was addicted to the lifestyle… would that still hold true had I told him that I decided to change it way before it happened? Maybe it was a subtle hint of something to come? Its very real, a lil' tragedy of sorts… and I can’t shrug off this feeling, well not yet anyway… heh