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Old 11-12-2004, 11:27 PM   #76
Alexia Dark
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You should do a blog at Blogspot.com.

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Old 11-26-2004, 07:32 AM   #77
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Good story Rambo!

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Old 11-27-2004, 09:45 AM   #78
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This is good stuff.

And I echo Webmistress_O4's advice; I posted here about doing the same thing.

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Old 11-27-2004, 09:46 PM   #79
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This is the best fan fiction Iv'e ever read, In some aspects your better than Frank Miller, I'm not joking.

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Old 12-24-2004, 02:41 PM   #80
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I've noticed you have a habit of leaving for ages. Usually you come back with a whole new thing to talk about and it's really cool. So can you skip right to the cool part? I just read the whole thread in an hour, and I'm getting desperate for something new and cool. It will be on your conscience if I get into 'new, cool' drugs!

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Old 01-06-2005, 01:00 PM   #81
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6th January 2005

There are any amount of reasons as to why someone wants to learn to fight. Maybe they want to be able to defend themselves. Maybe they want to be able to get their own back on the school bully. Some want to build a bit of confidence. Others want to lose (or gain) weight. Some want to be able to use their skills to help others.


No matter the discipline, and no matter your reasons for wanting to learn, the process of learning, of increasing your skill, has many long term and short term benefits. As Gichen Funikoshi once said,

"Karate exists for the perfection of the character of its participants."

As experience, skill and proficiency grows, so does the ability to realise that you actually don't need to fight. This is a common school of thought amoung most practitioners and as a self contained 'checks and balance' system, it applies to most people.

Say, for example, you wanted to learn Karate (or any martial art) for the simple purpose of being able to kick the crap out of people. Say you only wanted to learn to enhance your already numerous ways of inflicting misery on others.

This check and balance system suggests that (in an over-simplified way) this won't happen. The maturing effect will kick in and the person wishing to learn for these purposes will change (to put it blithely) their wicked ways and become well-rounded individuals with much to offer society.

Of course there are the people of whom it could be said are the exception which proves the rule.

I encountered such a person last night during patrol. He was good. Fast, agile, smart.

And he was better than me. Thats actually never happened before. Still, I was able to hold my own long enough for the people he was attacking to get away.

But Christ, he was a mean sonofa*****.

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Old 01-06-2005, 07:22 PM   #82
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a new villain? or a rivial hero? Hopefully a new entry will enlighten us!

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Old 01-22-2005, 01:58 PM   #83
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ooh, new villian!!!!!!!! tell us more!

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Old 01-28-2005, 02:44 PM   #84
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*coughs pointedly* excuse me? HELLOO?

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Old 01-29-2005, 01:43 PM   #85
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This writer is very method Loki. He'll drop in and out just like a "real" superhero would. He treats this as it is actually happening which is a cool concept but is difficult for us fans of the series.

He'll pop in once inawhile and fill us in on what happening, gaps being as large as 4 months or more. Hopefully he pops up with something new sometime soon.

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Old 01-30-2005, 04:13 PM   #86
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Thanks. I do get that, but I would just like to say: grrrrrrrrr!

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Old 01-31-2005, 07:10 AM   #87
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31st Jan 2005

When i allow myself to think about it, my evening job has become just that - a job. Its routine, it's steady, - i'll not go so far as to say that its boring, but it's a lot less exciting or eventful than the tabloids would have the general populace beleive.

They still have this misconception that i'm a superpowered omnipotent superhero. Heh, christ, The Irish News - one of the 'less tabloidy' papers - even has a running column about my exploits. It used to be mainly fact based. Sort of a 'running tab' on where i'd been, what i'd done, who i'd helped. For a while it was decent, but now the new columnist has decided to take a new angle on it by speculating on my private life, what i do when i'm not saving people from certain death , the whole 'man behind the mask' motif. Incidentally, they're the one of the ones who are staunch supporters of MIB theory one - that i'm a rich, do gooding philanthropist. I wish.

I don't write as much in this diary anymore, the main reason being that i honestly don't really have the time to. The only computer i have access to now is my work computer, and i've been on enough warnings so far for constant 'tardiness';(My bosses word, he's big into his American slang - thinks he's Principal Strickland or something); absenteeism, or looking as though i've gotten my crap kicked in the night before. Which usually I have. Despite my training, when five guys gang up on me, i'm gonna take a few knocks before i take them all out. Heh, I was at the photocopier the other week, sporting a black eye and looking dishevelled in general (more on that later). one of the courier guys comes over to me and asks conspiratorially, 'Hey, Marty, are you, like, in a fight club or something?'

I was feeling like absolute ****e, so i just gave him a look, to which his eyes widened and he responded, 'Jesus! Can i join? I know i'm fat and all, but i'd be really good at it, i promise!'

I just shook my head and walked out. So now i've got the guys thinking that i'm in an underground fight club which I find ironic and slightly amusing, but its more of a hassle than anything.

I also use the computer in work to access various newsites from around the world - keep up with things, you know? So i've been reprimanded about 'improper usage of internet' and 'abuse of the employer/employee trust relationship.' Jesus.

Like i said, what i do has now become something akin to a job, and like most jobs, there are days when i just don't really feel like going to work.

Ideally, I get up about half six or thereabouts. I generally wake up round about this time, I get up, have a shower, shave, dress; (you have no idea of how much i'm tempted to launch into a Patrick Bateman 'morning routine' speech); have some breakfast then get the bus or train to work for about half 8.

Thats ideally. For me however, most days are anything but ideal. If i'm lucky, i'll get a few hours sleep between 3 and 7. Usually this turns into a 4-8/9 depending on the day and how tired i am. If i get up later at 9, I rush to have a quick shower and get my clothes on and my stuff together before running for the bus. Shave? Forget it. Breakfast? Yeah, right. I might make it in for about half 9, by which time i'm in trouble anyway. Ironically, Monday night/ Tuesday Morning is my favorite time of the week. Monday night for most clubs in Belfast is gay night, and as such, there's not usually much happening.

I'll make it in for about half nine, and as i slope towards my desk, my boss will look up from his cubicle and glower at me silently. Usually i look like crap. Unironed shirt, scuffed shoes, hair an absolute mess. If i've not had time to shave well... lets just say i have more than my fair share of beard growth. Five o clock shadow? I don't even make it til midday.

After work, I go to training. Gym, Ju-jitsu, rock-climbing, circuits, it doesn't really matter, none of them finish til about half 7 at the earliest anyway. I'll grab a quick snack before heading home to change into my uniform (I still abhor the fact that some papers refer to it as a costume). This time of year its dark at this time, but nothing much happens til the clubs close. I usually head out anyway, there's always something somewhere. Later in the year, when the evenings are lighter, i'll be able to grab a quick power nap between 8 and 11. If i'm lucky. I head out on my patrols, live my life as a derring-do hero and try to get back to bed for about 3/4.

So there we have it. My daily routine in a nutshell. Social life? What social life? I often wonder what it is my friends think i get up to as i'm constantly having to blow them out.

For all that though, and despite how I sound, I do love my job. Every day i actually do what others only think about. I can, and do, make a difference, and i think in the end you can't really ask for much more.

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Old 01-31-2005, 09:53 PM   #88
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What about K? What about that new villain?

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Old 02-11-2005, 12:57 PM   #89
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11th Feb 2005

I'm seeing a pattern in how I write. When something happens, depending on how it makes me feel, i'll either write about it straight away, or i'll avoid the issue. Psyche 101 - something happens you don't like, you generally prefer to not think about it. Even when you know it can't be avoided, even when you know you have to confront the subject sooner or later, most people just don't want to know. Myself included. Despite my training, despite the fact that i should - that i do - know better, i just want to bury me head in the sand and forget about it.

Over a month ago I encountered a guy beating on a couple out for the night. He had the girl by the arm with one hand and the guy by the throat with the other. He didn't harm them too much, but the girl was screaming bloody murder. The guy, choking, was trying to punch the attacker, but the attacker just shrugged them off like they were nothing.

I knew i was in trouble when, even as i approached him from behind, he let go of the two simultaneously and shot a devastating lick to my left thigh. It was so fast, i didn't even see it coming. I've had (in my opinion) fairly extensive training. I'm pretty good at fighting, at self defense; without blowing my own horn, i'm well above average.

But that kick! Christ! It downed me good and proper. I sank down on one knee (marriage police, anyone) and was able to parry a few of his kicks and blows, but most got through and so it was that i got seven shades of **** kicked out of me. The couple ran away, while i continued to put up my futile attempt at resistance, then, without any warning, the guy just stopped. He just...stopped. He looked at me, considered, then said in a curiously amenable voice, 'Not bad.' Then he walked away. No, not walked, ambled.

In retrospect, the entire experience wasn't that traumatic, nor the guy that much of a jerk, he was just better than me. At the time, i was more pissed that i'd lost than anything.

I've seen this guy a few times since then, each time the same sort of scenario, and i've attacked him and gotten my ass kicked. Each time, the people he's attacking have gotten away with no lasting damage and each time, having resoundingly kicked my ass he's uttered something like, 'Pretty good', or, 'You're getting better'.

You'd think i would feel patronised, but i actually feel like i'm learning, like i am getting better. There's something....noble about the guy. Despite attacking people to get to me.

In consideration, I think it's his voice that makes me feel like that. It's the kind of voice you'd attribute to a mentor, a close friend. It's the kind of voice you can't help but liking in its hearty richness.

And i'm beginning to look forward to encountering him again.

I'm being prepped for something, that much is obvious, but for whom, and for what cause is something the guy has yet to explain.

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Old 02-11-2005, 01:26 PM   #90
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Find him and Kick his ASS!!!

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Old 02-11-2005, 07:57 PM   #91
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Maybe the MiB has found a new mentor?

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Old 02-16-2005, 07:58 AM   #92
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huh. somebody needs to explain to mentor-man that you don't attack people and wait for the superheroes to come out of the woodwork; if he wants to help MiB train he's not going about it that nicely. Next time he turns up, try asking him what the hell's going on BEFORE he gets round to kicking the **** out of you.

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Old 03-25-2005, 08:30 PM   #93
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Wow, this is so wasy to get caught up in... You almost believe it's real... but is it? (OooOOooo)

I love every word, keep it up.

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Old 04-08-2005, 03:13 PM   #94
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It's been nearly 2 months. I'm getting impatient again!

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Old 04-27-2005, 12:14 PM   #95
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27 April 2005

Ugh, been a while again. Big time superhero (with groupies to boot - seriously) and I can't even afford a personal computer and/or an internet connection. So I update this when i get a moment in work, which recently, hasn't been that often. At the minute, i'm just utterly exhausted. On average I patrol 6 nights a week til about 3 or 4 in the morning. Then i have to come in here to stare at a computer all day. That's when i'm not answering phones, or taking notes in meetings, or generally being the office *****.

Of course, last night was just the icing on the cake. I'd finished climbing in the P.E.C and having stashed my gear, i'd gone on patrol straight away. Tuesday night is s.h.a.g. in the Limelight and is generally full of punk/arty/grunge students and generally isn't much of a hassle. Last night though, some disgruntled skateboarder took a dislike to the guy his ex was going to bring home and, in what i would call a bit of an over-reaction, tried to stab the poor sod. It's thinking like that i just can't (or perhaps won't - maybe i am just a cold fish) understand. I mean,

A) Its only a girl- in a veritable sea of many others and;

B) She wasn't that great looking.

I shouldn't judge things like that, but i just get...ugh, just annoyed at the fact that people let these little things drive them to do stupid things. So your ex (whom you dumped by the way) is gonna shag another guy, so what? There are, as the man said, more important things in life.

So I 'intervened' while the growing crowd just decided to take a back seat and watch the show. Nice one folks, hopefully when you're about to get run through by a vertically challenged skateboarder packing - what can only be described as a miniature machete - the gathering crowd that day won't play the role of passive observer as convincingly as yourselves. I intervened, but the guy with the knife had by this point worked himself into a bit of a tizzy and was swiping at everything and anyone who came near him. Unfortunately for me, I was closest, and despite reasonably good reflexes (i'm being modest) he cut me pretty deep across the chest. From the left shoulder across and down slightly. Right across the - and i apologise for the crudity - across the nipple.

You'd think by now i've gotten used to the whole pain aspect of what i do, and i suppose to some extent i have, but let me assure in no uncertain terms, having your nipple sliced in half is not; despite what many bondage/S&M afficionado's maintain; in any way, shape or form pleasurable. It's hell. It was hell yesterday when it happened, it's hell now every time my shirt brushes against the plaster. Add to this the little bit of salt in the wound of sword-boy, having been disarmed by me, landing a lucky punch right in my right eye socket.

I stumbled into work this morning about ten past ten, wincing with each step, sporting a real shiner, and seemingly grasping my right breast with every step. My boss looked up, glowered slightly amidst the just barely audible snickers' of my other collegues, one of whom hissed, 'Morning Marty! Fight club last night again, aye?'

Crap, i have to go again, would you beleive i have training? I've more (lots more) to talk about, hopefully i'll get it down tomorrow or the next day.

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Old 04-29-2005, 11:05 AM   #96
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I didn't see this thread until I clicked on your signature link today, Rambo. I really, really like it. There are a few elements that are similar to a character for whom I've been trying to write a coherent and complete story for years, in terms of the depression and the feelings he gets when confronted with rapists. Keep it up, man.


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Old 05-05-2005, 12:50 PM   #97
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5th May 2005

So much for the next day. What i wanted to talk about last week was my last encounter with the gentleman who appeared to have a vested interest in my training.

We'd been (or certainly, i'd been) carrying on the charade of 'running into him' while out on patrol, we'd fight, i'd get a few licks in, but mostly he handed me my ass on a platter. That was until round about mid March. One night while sparring, I suddenly found myself in the unlikely position of defeating the guy. And it wasn't simply a case of holding my own. For whatever reason, I, for a change, was kicking his ass.

Thats generally typical for me when it comes to learning. For a while, i'll make no improvement, or certainly, appear to have made no improvements, then almost literally overnight, i'll have assimilated everything in one go.


I was kicking his ass, and more tellingly, I wasn't having too hard of a time doing it. For a moment, it was almost like the final scene in the Matrix, where Keanu comes back to life. Heh, then, when the gentleman realised that I had progressed significantly, the scene segued into that of the one in The Princess Bride where Inigo Montoya and the Man in Black fight atop the Cliffs of Insanity.

'I'm not left handed.'

'I'm not left handed either.'

Basically, he upped his game. He'd been holding back all along, and I can only imagine how that had been frustrating him for the past month and a half. He beat me decisively and called a halt, 'until our next encounter, Man in Black.'


With my plateau of non-advancement having been breached, i finally began to make daily improvements in my fighting technique. I studied, I fought, I improved with an uncanny speed and willingness, hell, I was on fire. I actively began to search him out each night, and he didn't disappoint. Our encounters became more frequent until I sparred with him every night, sometimes more than once. And I was improving. Always improving, looking for weaknesses in his style, reading his movements, thinking ahead, planning for the win.

Many people make the mistake of thinking that fighting is purely physical, that it's simply a case of punch, kick, punch, kick, block; and i suppose to some extent it is. But when you know how to fight, when you know techniques, when you know your opponent, it becomes a more mental game. Oriental masters ascribe it to a dance, a form of art, language in it's most perfect form. I see it as that, but something more, I see the fighting stage as almost a game of chess. You set up your pieces, you manoeuvre your opponent into doing what you want; into a position that you decide, so that they have no option but to surrender or be beaten.

Two weeks ago, I found myself in the same position I had mid-March. I had advanced to a sufficient point where, in order to win, he was going to have to up his game once more. And he couldn't. I had surpassed him. I blocked whatever punches and kicks he delivered, and I battled him down so that he had no choice but to go on the defensive. My fists and legs were a blur, I found myself having to hold back somewhat, I felt nothing when he landed a few lucky blows. Eventually, he fell to his knees, defeated.
I towered over him, he had lost, and I had won. I tried to think of something to say. Something noble, something grandiose, something appropriate to the gravity of the situation; something that would give the victory - my victory - some sort of larger purpose. The vocal equivalent of a 4x4 engraved marble plaque proclaiming for one and all 'On this day, the Man In Black did meet his esteemed opponent on the battlefield, and on said said day, the Man in Black defeated his opponent in a most convincing manner.' I stooped over, grasped the gentleman by his top and pulled back my fist. Think David and Goliath I told myself, Think Roland and Cort. I cleared my throat:

'Do you yield, sir?'

Crap.

He burst out in peals of laughter. Tears streamed down his face, 'Thats it?! Do I yield? Sir?'

'Dammit!' I muttered, more to myself than anything, and let him go. He stood up, dusted himself off and forcibly made himself stop laughing. He opened his mouth, paused. He closed it. He opened it again. Closed it. He opened for a third time and something, something in my expression, my countenance brought forth yet another burst of bellyaching laughter. My left eye involuntarily twitched. Eventually he stopped and said with some mirth,

'Congratulations, Man in Black, you have defeated me.' He paused; added, 'Sir'.

I looked at him, 'So what happens now?'

'What happens now?' He repeated, 'Now, I go to my superiors and inform them that we have yet another potential hostile in the Belfast area.'

I blanched, raised my eyebrows questioningly.

He frowned and continued 'What did you think? That I was training you? That you were going to be indoctrinated into some sort of Justice League?'

I glared at him accusingly, in belated comprehension,

'You did train me', I protested.

'No, I assessed the nature and capability of a potential hostile for my superiors. The thorough way to do that was to bring you to your peak. I did so, job done, mission accomplished.'

He put his hand on my shoulder, 'Look,' he said, and he sounded genuinely regretful, 'I know you think you're doing a good thing, and you are, but human nature being what it is, I - that is my superiors - like to keep tabs on people like you, make sure you don't get too much out of control, make sure you don't become more like those you fight against, you understand? Martin,' I snapped my head up at the mention of my name, he looked directly into my eyes,
'Yes, we know who you are, (we do have our resources) no, we won't divulge it to anyone; at least, not until such times as you become a threat. 'Look, Martin, you of all people should know of the inherent instability of the human psyche, I understand from what i've read of your profile you've walked the razors edge yourself.'

I nodded dumbly, downcast, trying to take in what he was telling me. The fact that he (and presumably others) knew my identity should have come as a shocker, but I just felt numb.
'Incidentally', He added, 'not a bright idea leaving your diary on the internet.' He smiled gently, trying to ease the blow, the letdown.

He squeezed my shoulder and began to walk away,
'Don't take it personally,' he said, 'Keep up the good fight, and after a while, who knows... maybe I'll be back, and maybe you'll be able to do some real good.'


So that's that. My final encounter with my mysterious trainer. I had a bunch of stuff I was going to talk about now. My immediate reaction, my anger, my disappointment. But currently, it's 5:40pm. I've been in from 8 this morning. I got 4 hours sleep last night and i'm knackered. I'll fill you in another time, but right now, what happened doesn't seem so bad. Rather, more a blessing in disguise, did I really see myself as a member of some sort of superhero group? I think not. On the plus side, my mental, physical, and dare i say it spiritual rollercoaster of a journey over the past few months is over and I am, as they say, in the best shape of my life. And that can only be a good thing.

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Old 05-07-2005, 05:40 AM   #98
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Excellent

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Old 05-07-2005, 05:30 PM   #99
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Don't stop putting your diary on the Internet, please. That guy was a bit of a sod if you ask me - v. condescending. But great story!!!!!!!!!

P.S. Do you yield, sir?!!! Seriously?

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Old 06-14-2005, 12:30 PM   #100
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14th June 2005

I like to think of myself as a rational person. I have an open mind regarding most things, but generally I'm more a pragmatic person than anything. Despite my introspective nature, if something bad happens, it happens. I ascertain the best way to deal with it and I follow through until things are better again. I try not to dwell on the how and why.

Its one of the reasons as to why i also consider myself to be a somewhat cold person, a person who doesn't waste time reflecting on feelings and matters of the heart. I've broken up with previous girlfriends (more accurately they've broken up with me) for this very reason. I'm unromantic, thoughtless, rational, logical. And yet at the same time I can emote with others to a great extent. Such is the dichotomonious nature of my being I suppose.

I've never really went out of my way to make friends with others. I've never really opened up to anyone. I've just never felt any real need to, and as an attitude its suited me fine. I'm introverted by nature, I enjoy my own company, and social interaction - while always a pleasure - has never really seemed like a requirement.

What i'm trying to say is that i'm a loner. I have friends, yes, but for the most part, a total loner. I'm uncomfortable with close relationships with other people because of my inherent nature and as such, for the most part I keep myself closed off, apart, and untouchable. For most of my adult life i've beleived that the only one person anyone can depend on is themselves.

And now i'm well and truly screwed.

Because I think i'm in love.

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