What is the point in all of this - in playing this game - if we are all predestined to lose at the end of it? Why am I laying awake thinking of all possible futures when that future gets shorter day by day? Have I really done what I set out to do? And what of truth? I know what I can do, but is it right? My dreams have stopped again. I am thankful. Something may have happened at Windypops on Monday to scare Adam. Reasons to believe it - sounds like truth. Reasons to disbelieve it? David told me and wouldn’t know the truth if it bit him on the fanny. Oh and James and I were there and they weren’t. Minor detail. Adam has been gone nearly a week, but is still in my mind. I can’t help him in this because he no longer trusts me. The sad thing is just that he read a situation wrong. I gave him a chance to do something different. To break free from this cycle. I have answers - but he doesn’t want to know. So he will move on and I will become the next Brian in the long line of Brians as Adam still doesn’t understand that that’s not how it should be. And that the tears he sheds are for himself, not anyone else. It starts with secrets. Those secrets at first will contain small pieces of truth. But they, understandably, are not meant for my ears. Questioning my motives, eating at my integrity. He had a bad night last night. I could feel it. The horrible truth is I will always know. How can someone hate themselves enough to self harm? Is it really to stop ourselves from hurting others? Silly question - of course it’s not, or we’d go through life not hurting others. It’s simply because our pain is private and we need people to see and understand that we are in pain. And it’s also because we feel we deserve the physical pain - we are guilty of sins that would turn every friend against us because no-one knows who we are and what we’ve done. And it makes us come alive. Gives us control over our lives. One more cut and we might end it all. The important point was point two. How can anyone know us, when the person they see is not us? When our entire reasons for being where we are are fabricated? And on cold nights where we wish for someone to care for us, to hold us, we see there’s no-one who will understand and we hate ourselves that little bit more. Ironic really as we don’t see that it’s a self perpetuating cycle that traps us - and all because we see people being loved for their pain and we feel we need that. But how can someone love us when we hate ourselves? They must love something other than us. I wonder what? Well Mr Adam. You are not a brain tumour, you are not even a dead parent, you are a Mr Adam. And if you can’t see why you can trust me now more than ever, then you are truly lost to me.