/ 6:59 PM

I've just completed my reading of Dave Pelzer's trilogy book, straightforwardly entitled "My Story".. The trilogy book consists of three individual stories of coz, namely "A Child Called 'It'", "The Lost Boy", and "A Man Named Dave".. I guess you can already tell from the titles that this writer has his whole growing up process narrated in the book, i.e. from the time he was a kid to the time he grew to become a teen, and then an adult.. This book had been nominated for a Pulitzer prize before, and generally it's a well-known bestseller.. The story is a true one of how the writer was abused by his mother as a child.. The much deep feelings I had while reading some parts of this book has now flown away, furthermore I'm being very distracted with my father watching "Starship Troopers" on the tv now..=_=" Something so vastly different as that definitely puts me out of the mood I was in while reading the book just now.. Lolz

I'll share a few really good extracts from the book nw! But actually, quite a large part of the book wasn't that absorbing.. If you intend to read the book on your own sometime, maybe you'll wanna get to the better bits of the story yourself.. Yet, coz quite a large part of it may not be so good to read (as you'll need to get thru his recounting how he was abused brutally, etc), just read these extracts then! Here they are..

-----

(Btw, what's happening in this extract is, Dave Pelzer is now a grown man, and here he is talking with a woman he will love)

After sitting outside, stirring our coffees that had grown cold in silence, Marsha tossed her hair and asked, "Dave, is it me? Did I get too close?"

With tears beginning to build, I shook my head, "No, it's not you. It's just, it's me." I stammered before swallowing hard. "I don't want to hurt you, that's all."

Reaching out to hold my hand, Marsha probed, "What is it, Dave? What are you so afraid of?"

I clamped my eyes shut. The pressure inside of me was too much for me to hold in any longer. "You!" I fired back. "I'm scared to death of you! I can't, I can't even look at you! I can't do it. I mean, you're too good, too good for me." Marsha sat back in her chair, dumbstruck. "For God's sake, look at you. You're perfect, a china doll. You're drop-dead gorgeous! You don't lie, cheat, or steal. You have no vices. You don't have a mean streak in your body. You believe in God and in doing your best. You're educated, you don't complain or blame others if things don't turn out. You have no baggage from your past, no skeletons in your closet. Come on. I'm waiting for you to peel off your mask... You're just too perfect. I know who I am and where I belong. You're way too good for me. I'm sorry, but I don't... I don't deserve to be with you."

"Don't say that!" Marsha pleaded. "All your life you've carried this guilt. Don't you understand? It's not your fault! You're not to blame. I'm an adult. I can take it. I know everything, everything about you, and I'm still here."

Turning away, I raised my voice at Marsha for the first time. "Don't you get it? My grandmother hates me, my mother has tried to kill me. I drove Patsy to the brink... If you get too close... I'll somehow screw things up for you, too." With my chest beginning to heave, I mummered, "I'd rather stop before things get too serious and keep you as a friend. I'm just trying to save what we have. You mean that much to me. You're too important for me to lose. You deserve to be happy, and if you become involved with me--"

"It's too late. I'm already involved. I know what I'm getting into. I've been around the block; I've dated plenty of creeps. I've never met anyone out there like you. Don't you see how precious you are to me?"

I shook my head.

"And what about you, Dave?" What do you deserve?" Marsha asked me. "My God, all your life you've worked your butt off , been taken advantage of; you've gotten truckloads of manure thrown at you and you get up, wipe yourself of, and carry on as if nothing happened. You never quit! What about you? You deserve to live a better life. I've never seen anybody work as hard as you. Look at how you sacrifice everything for your son. (Note: Dave Pelzer met another woman before this woman, Marsha. They had a son, but eventually their marriage just didn't work out. They divorced under peaceful circumstances though) I've never seen any parent smother his child with as much love as you do. Okay, you had a bad marriage; but it takes two, two people to ruin something. You were not the only one responsible for the divorce. Maybe you couldn't love her because she broke your trust. I'm not even going to tell you what I think about her! You've been more honourable, forgiving, and self-blaming than you should have. You're the most broken person I know. What about Dave? When is Dave going to be happy? You deserve, Dave, you deserve to be happy. When is it going to be time for Dave?"

I continued to shake my head. "Some mistakes... can never be paid for."

"It's her, isn't it?" Marsha asked. "You can't stop thinking about her, can you?"

I nodded in agreement. "Every day," I began, "I try, I really do, but it's like something pulls me back and I can't break free - no matter what I do or how hard I try. Sometimes when I'm out there speaking, explaining what happened between Mother and me, it's like I'm searching, crawling for a fragment of something I could have done, anything to change all that... besides Stephen(i.e. his son). It's like, it's one of the reasons I'm out there. If I could just find--"

"No!" Marsha broke in. "You've got to let her go, it wasn't your fault that--"

"No, I could have--"

"My God!" Marsha now yelled. "Your mother was nuts! There was nothing you could have done to stop her!"

With my heart continuing to race, I frantically shook my head. "You're wrong. I could have..."

"Could have done what?" Marsha counted.

"Please," I begged, "don't push it. I really don't want to go there."

"No! We're going to confront it!" Marsha demanded. "All you do is give. You'd slit your wrists if you thought it would help someone. Just take a moment and help yourself. I'm here. I'm here for you, honey. There was nothin you could have done." Marsha leaned closer, to hold me, but before her fingers could touch my shoulders, I pulled away.

"You don't know, you weren't there. I could have done something! That's the worst part of it all.I never said no. I never stood up for myself. Don't you get it? I could have stopped it. I let it go too far. The day she - she stabbed me, I just stood there, like I was begging for it. My brothers would have never let anything like that happen to them, I could tell by the look in their eyes. But I did. I always did. I swallowed ammonia in front of my dad. When I cleaned that bathroom with that mixture of ammonia and Clorox my throat was on fire, and all I had to do was to dump that stuff down the toilet.I even ate the dog shit when she was in the other room. All I had to do was to throw it down the disposal and she'd never know, but I did it, I did everything she wanted. I never stood up for myself. All I had to do was stop her, just one time. Maybe once and that could have changed everything." A stream of tears began to spatter the wooden deck. "I could have stopped her. I never... never said no."

Marsha began to cry as well. As I covered my face to hide my shame, a wave of anxiety made me slip from the chair and fall forward to the deck. I stayed on my knees as my body shook. "Everyone thinks I'm- I'm so damn courageous to tell my pathetic little tale. Part of me feels like a whore. The truth is, if I'm so brave, why didn't I have the guts to stop her? I could have left. I had hundreds of chances."

"Dave," Marsha cut in, "when you were with Patsy(i.e. his first wife), did you work on your marriage?"

Stopping to look at her, I shook my head. "Now that I've had time to think about it, it was Patsy who really put forth the effort--"

"No!" Marsha boomed, "it's not just your fault! So, I'm asking: when you were married, did you give it your best?"

"Yeah, I guess so." I stopped to collect myself. "Sure, I guess so."

"As a writer, how long did you say it takes you to construct a paragraph?"

"Anywhere from four to maybe six hours. Why?" I asked, feeling intimidated.

Marsha dug further. "Now, don't think, just answer: Why does it take you so long?"

"Because I can't type, I have no mechanics, because I'm stupid? What are you getting at?"

"No," Marsha calmly interjected. "Ssh, slow dow. Tell me, just open up and tell me, Dave. Why?"

I could feel myself about to erupt. "Because... I want to do my best, my best in everything I am and do! That's why!" I shouted.

"As a father, as a husband when you married...?"

"I did my best!" I fired back.

"Flying for the air force, the volunteer work, the way you stack your firewood, fold your shirts, arrange your table when you barbeque dinner...?"

"I try. I try to give everything my all. Stop it!" I begged. "Just let it go."

"Everything?" Marsha asked in a hushed tone. "You've always given everything your all?"

I nodded yes.

"As a son, did you give it your best?"

"Damn straight I did! I always did. The chores, trying to impress her with my work at school, praying everyday that I wouldn't piss her off."

"And you didn't quit?" Marsha raised her eyebrows.

"No! I never quit!" I stated with conviction. "I never quit."

"You told me that when you were in foster care and the air force didn't want you that it took you years of proving to them that you wanted to fly for them... When you were scammed by that man from Lincoln and left with nothing, you walked away... After everything you've been through, why in heaven's name, why do you push yourself? As a child, Dave, you were a child; why did you...?"

"Because that's all I had!" I cried. "I got nothing else! It's all I am! It's all I've ever known. If I quit back then, once, for just a second... It could have been all over. I got nothing else, all my life... "

Falling to the deck, Marsha said, "I know, I know, baby, I know." Reaching over to cradle ny head against her chest, she whispered, "You made that choice. Your mother made hers. It's not your fault. It wasn't your doing. She gave up on herself a long, long time ago. She quit - on her son, her family, everything she had, she quit. Noone could have saved her, least of all her own baby that she treated like an animal. She was a broken woman long before you came into her life. You've got to give her up. It's not your doing. You deserve, Dave, you deserve to be free."

"I could have--" I protested.

"No!" Marsha shouted. "Tell me, tell yourself, what was the one thing you could have possibly done to prevent her self-destruction?"

"Been a better son? I dunno." I shook my head. "I just don't know."

"You're a good son now, and you always have been. No matter what happens to us, for your own peace of mind, after all your years of searching, you need to understand, it wasn't your doing."

Feeling th pressure beginning to ease, I stammered, "It's just, I feel my entire - and I mean my entire - life, since I was a kid - it's like I saw everything swirling around me, and somehow I allowed things to take over, to take control of me because I never felt I deserved anything but that. That's why I tried to bury the dirt; that's why I eat crap every day of my life. I don't deserve any better."

"I know there's nothing I could have done to stop her, but that doesn't help, doesn't stop it from gnawing at me every day. And because of that, I feel so undeserving, especially when it comes to you. You're too pure." I let out a deep breath. "I can't do it anymore. I'm just tired, tired of swimming against the tide, proving myself... I'm tired."

-----

"When I'm with you, Marsha... I feel clean. You ease my shame."

"And you're my white knight. Together, back to back, we can do anything, Dave," Marsha cried. "Can't you see that all I want is to be with you?"

My insides became unglued. As much as I tried to drive Marsha away, my heart ached for her to stay. With my anxiety spent and my heart bursting, I wrapped my arms around Marsha's waist with my head bent in her lap. "I'll never deserve you. You're my best friend. I love you. You're the one, Marsha. The only one... The only one I trust."

-----

(This extract has Dave talking to his little son)

"Dad... Am I going to make it?"

"Absolutely. Not a doubt in my mind."

"How do you know?"

"I know." I nodded my head. "I know you. You're a terrific young man. You're kind. You're sensitive. You know right from wrong, and, most important, you've got a good heart." Switching topics for a moment, I admitted, "I know our divorce wasn't easy, and I am sorry. I truly am. I know school isn't always easy, or dealing with other kids, or things you have to face on a daily basis. No offense, but that's life. Everybody has problems. Everyone.

But you're different: you deal with things. It's not always easy, but that's the way it is. I'm not trying to be a tough guy about this, but no matter what happens to you, it doesn't give you an excuse to blame others or wallow in self-pity. Your mother, your teachers, others who love you, or even myself: we can only help you so far. It's going to be up to you to make it happen. No one's perfect. No one has a perfect life. Your mother and I tried to make it work out. But it didn't . And as you grow older, maybe you can learn something positive from our mistakes.

You're going to be fine. You've got s strong heart. In life you're going to make mistakes, you're going to fall down, but it's getting up that counts. There are so many people who cave in at the first sign of trouble. They quit school, they act like they know it all, and develop a habit of quitting on everything. You're better than that. If you quit, everything you fought for would have been in vain. The thing is, at the end of the day you still have to face yourself. ... Stay on your course. Be true to yourself, and you'll be fine."

-----

(Extract from a letter Dave wrote to Marsha)

It is at times extremely difficult for me to open up and talk to a woman like you. Until recently, I never had.

Getting close to someone, anyone, is very, very hard for me.

It is easier, safer for me to watch from a distance. Sometimes I feel so lost. I've never been able to experience things like normal people; like being held as the sun goes down or feeling safe and 'carefree' with a woman. A sensation I have yet to experience. So, I watch others and smile for their joy. Sometimes, that's enough. I'll make eye contact, bow my head in respect, and stroll off feeling a little warmer inside, thinking I would never be able to share moments in time like other couples.

Somehow lately I believe this is the springtime of mt life. I've worked hard, planted many things, and soon they will blossom and grow before my eyes. I'm still scared, but no longer terrified. I can live with that. In an odd sense, being on the constant mental defensive is a comfort zone of its own. But one day I would like to be a real person. A person who is able to let down his guard and let someone in. Before I die I would like to experience that. I want to shelve my former life's mistakes. I would like to live in total peace, in every sense of the word.

If I have to remain alone, I will. Above all I know not only can I survive , but I can trust myself. And I feel secure with that premise, as well as knowing I will not cause anyone else anguish.

I still dream of a home ... Maybe, one day, I'll have a home. Then maybe one day I can come home... home to you.

-----

As I look back, I fully realize I made a fair amount of mistakes. Like many individuals who suffer from low esteem, I, too, allowed myself to become associated with others who mistook my kindness or generosity as a sign of weakness and attempted to exploit that for their own agenda. At the time, part of me felt as though I were a schoolboy willing to do anything just to gain acceptance so others would approve of or believe in me. I never even thought about protecting my interests, or maintaining the standards I had fought so hard for - even though I had fully realized how grave my situations were - because of fear of rejection and being all alone. But now, time, experience, and maturity have become valuable allies for me.

-----

Perhaps because of my past, the most important things for me are still the simplest - feeling the sun's warm rays upon my back or gazing up at the clear blue sky. Even to this day, I would not change one moment of my life. If it all ends now, I have lived, I have learned, and I have been loved. The greatest lesson is the gift of life, and no matter what, tomorrow is another day.

write about yourself here like how you lived through a crisis like the morrocian crisis. erps, have you studied about that before and about your test, how easy it is and how much confidence you have to pass and get all A1s for all subjects, add in your own wish here, and what you would do if target is not reached, like slash your wrist, eat many many painkiller pills at one shot and die. lol it's suicidal thoughts. stay away from that. but you need to enter a reality, everyone's doing that- it's the trend, so why not follow it. unless you want to be an odd one out. cause slashing wrist is soo common in girls school not in boys school. boys suicide, just like die gracefully from 30th storey, just look on the bright side, maybe you have lived in a lie too long and so you have found out the turth now, just think. optimist wins. you have entered into a world of reality



We know life's hard, truth is hard, lies are hard, they are all hard to accept when they have been found out, and i'm rushing history homework on the Abyissian Crisis about Italy and Abyssia going into war and that the League Of Nations cannot stop this from happening, and beacuse they are formed by means to stop war and peace-keep the countries together, they have thus failed to achieve that. I think i tend to hold a class for history instead of telling you about me, i'm basically a what subject-realted lover (humanities) and thus I am more analytical and critical about things, and likes to study about dead people, haha. lol. it's history what can you expect and also geography, it amazes me. I really like it alot, so what have you? Again to find this answer you need to enter into your own reality and reflect




it's amazing. amzing how people change the way of things, like how I used to hate outdoors in Band felt it was a complete waste of time, i've acquired to like it more, i guess people change, their thereotical means and applications in life just goes on into a new direction, and see things in another perspective, i guess- it's all in the mind. It really amazes me how these comes into action, from someone so pessimistic has changed his own view of things, and thus my friend is scoring much better, being more optimisitc and not think of his old way of suicidal thoughts, which are pretty daunting. and thus we need to see things, in another light, another perspective and another new way, to enable us to open up our minds, and make more new things, the new way it is. done with the old back with the new

i've hiatus-ed.

/ 6:59 PM

I've just completed my reading of Dave Pelzer's trilogy book, straightforwardly entitled "My Story".. The trilogy book consists of three individual stories of coz, namely "A Child Called 'It'", "The Lost Boy", and "A Man Named Dave".. I guess you can already tell from the titles that this writer has his whole growing up process narrated in the book, i.e. from the time he was a kid to the time he grew to become a teen, and then an adult.. This book had been nominated for a Pulitzer prize before, and generally it's a well-known bestseller.. The story is a true one of how the writer was abused by his mother as a child.. The much deep feelings I had while reading some parts of this book has now flown away, furthermore I'm being very distracted with my father watching "Starship Troopers" on the tv now..=_=" Something so vastly different as that definitely puts me out of the mood I was in while reading the book just now.. Lolz

I'll share a few really good extracts from the book nw! But actually, quite a large part of the book wasn't that absorbing.. If you intend to read the book on your own sometime, maybe you'll wanna get to the better bits of the story yourself.. Yet, coz quite a large part of it may not be so good to read (as you'll need to get thru his recounting how he was abused brutally, etc), just read these extracts then! Here they are..

-----

(Btw, what's happening in this extract is, Dave Pelzer is now a grown man, and here he is talking with a woman he will love)

After sitting outside, stirring our coffees that had grown cold in silence, Marsha tossed her hair and asked, "Dave, is it me? Did I get too close?"

With tears beginning to build, I shook my head, "No, it's not you. It's just, it's me." I stammered before swallowing hard. "I don't want to hurt you, that's all."

Reaching out to hold my hand, Marsha probed, "What is it, Dave? What are you so afraid of?"

I clamped my eyes shut. The pressure inside of me was too much for me to hold in any longer. "You!" I fired back. "I'm scared to death of you! I can't, I can't even look at you! I can't do it. I mean, you're too good, too good for me." Marsha sat back in her chair, dumbstruck. "For God's sake, look at you. You're perfect, a china doll. You're drop-dead gorgeous! You don't lie, cheat, or steal. You have no vices. You don't have a mean streak in your body. You believe in God and in doing your best. You're educated, you don't complain or blame others if things don't turn out. You have no baggage from your past, no skeletons in your closet. Come on. I'm waiting for you to peel off your mask... You're just too perfect. I know who I am and where I belong. You're way too good for me. I'm sorry, but I don't... I don't deserve to be with you."

"Don't say that!" Marsha pleaded. "All your life you've carried this guilt. Don't you understand? It's not your fault! You're not to blame. I'm an adult. I can take it. I know everything, everything about you, and I'm still here."

Turning away, I raised my voice at Marsha for the first time. "Don't you get it? My grandmother hates me, my mother has tried to kill me. I drove Patsy to the brink... If you get too close... I'll somehow screw things up for you, too." With my chest beginning to heave, I mummered, "I'd rather stop before things get too serious and keep you as a friend. I'm just trying to save what we have. You mean that much to me. You're too important for me to lose. You deserve to be happy, and if you become involved with me--"

"It's too late. I'm already involved. I know what I'm getting into. I've been around the block; I've dated plenty of creeps. I've never met anyone out there like you. Don't you see how precious you are to me?"

I shook my head.

"And what about you, Dave?" What do you deserve?" Marsha asked me. "My God, all your life you've worked your butt off , been taken advantage of; you've gotten truckloads of manure thrown at you and you get up, wipe yourself of, and carry on as if nothing happened. You never quit! What about you? You deserve to live a better life. I've never seen anybody work as hard as you. Look at how you sacrifice everything for your son. (Note: Dave Pelzer met another woman before this woman, Marsha. They had a son, but eventually their marriage just didn't work out. They divorced under peaceful circumstances though) I've never seen any parent smother his child with as much love as you do. Okay, you had a bad marriage; but it takes two, two people to ruin something. You were not the only one responsible for the divorce. Maybe you couldn't love her because she broke your trust. I'm not even going to tell you what I think about her! You've been more honourable, forgiving, and self-blaming than you should have. You're the most broken person I know. What about Dave? When is Dave going to be happy? You deserve, Dave, you deserve to be happy. When is it going to be time for Dave?"

I continued to shake my head. "Some mistakes... can never be paid for."

"It's her, isn't it?" Marsha asked. "You can't stop thinking about her, can you?"

I nodded in agreement. "Every day," I began, "I try, I really do, but it's like something pulls me back and I can't break free - no matter what I do or how hard I try. Sometimes when I'm out there speaking, explaining what happened between Mother and me, it's like I'm searching, crawling for a fragment of something I could have done, anything to change all that... besides Stephen(i.e. his son). It's like, it's one of the reasons I'm out there. If I could just find--"

"No!" Marsha broke in. "You've got to let her go, it wasn't your fault that--"

"No, I could have--"

"My God!" Marsha now yelled. "Your mother was nuts! There was nothing you could have done to stop her!"

With my heart continuing to race, I frantically shook my head. "You're wrong. I could have..."

"Could have done what?" Marsha counted.

"Please," I begged, "don't push it. I really don't want to go there."

"No! We're going to confront it!" Marsha demanded. "All you do is give. You'd slit your wrists if you thought it would help someone. Just take a moment and help yourself. I'm here. I'm here for you, honey. There was nothin you could have done." Marsha leaned closer, to hold me, but before her fingers could touch my shoulders, I pulled away.

"You don't know, you weren't there. I could have done something! That's the worst part of it all.I never said no. I never stood up for myself. Don't you get it? I could have stopped it. I let it go too far. The day she - she stabbed me, I just stood there, like I was begging for it. My brothers would have never let anything like that happen to them, I could tell by the look in their eyes. But I did. I always did. I swallowed ammonia in front of my dad. When I cleaned that bathroom with that mixture of ammonia and Clorox my throat was on fire, and all I had to do was to dump that stuff down the toilet.I even ate the dog shit when she was in the other room. All I had to do was to throw it down the disposal and she'd never know, but I did it, I did everything she wanted. I never stood up for myself. All I had to do was stop her, just one time. Maybe once and that could have changed everything." A stream of tears began to spatter the wooden deck. "I could have stopped her. I never... never said no."

Marsha began to cry as well. As I covered my face to hide my shame, a wave of anxiety made me slip from the chair and fall forward to the deck. I stayed on my knees as my body shook. "Everyone thinks I'm- I'm so damn courageous to tell my pathetic little tale. Part of me feels like a whore. The truth is, if I'm so brave, why didn't I have the guts to stop her? I could have left. I had hundreds of chances."

"Dave," Marsha cut in, "when you were with Patsy(i.e. his first wife), did you work on your marriage?"

Stopping to look at her, I shook my head. "Now that I've had time to think about it, it was Patsy who really put forth the effort--"

"No!" Marsha boomed, "it's not just your fault! So, I'm asking: when you were married, did you give it your best?"

"Yeah, I guess so." I stopped to collect myself. "Sure, I guess so."

"As a writer, how long did you say it takes you to construct a paragraph?"

"Anywhere from four to maybe six hours. Why?" I asked, feeling intimidated.

Marsha dug further. "Now, don't think, just answer: Why does it take you so long?"

"Because I can't type, I have no mechanics, because I'm stupid? What are you getting at?"

"No," Marsha calmly interjected. "Ssh, slow dow. Tell me, just open up and tell me, Dave. Why?"

I could feel myself about to erupt. "Because... I want to do my best, my best in everything I am and do! That's why!" I shouted.

"As a father, as a husband when you married...?"

"I did my best!" I fired back.

"Flying for the air force, the volunteer work, the way you stack your firewood, fold your shirts, arrange your table when you barbeque dinner...?"

"I try. I try to give everything my all. Stop it!" I begged. "Just let it go."

"Everything?" Marsha asked in a hushed tone. "You've always given everything your all?"

I nodded yes.

"As a son, did you give it your best?"

"Damn straight I did! I always did. The chores, trying to impress her with my work at school, praying everyday that I wouldn't piss her off."

"And you didn't quit?" Marsha raised her eyebrows.

"No! I never quit!" I stated with conviction. "I never quit."

"You told me that when you were in foster care and the air force didn't want you that it took you years of proving to them that you wanted to fly for them... When you were scammed by that man from Lincoln and left with nothing, you walked away... After everything you've been through, why in heaven's name, why do you push yourself? As a child, Dave, you were a child; why did you...?"

"Because that's all I had!" I cried. "I got nothing else! It's all I am! It's all I've ever known. If I quit back then, once, for just a second... It could have been all over. I got nothing else, all my life... "

Falling to the deck, Marsha said, "I know, I know, baby, I know." Reaching over to cradle ny head against her chest, she whispered, "You made that choice. Your mother made hers. It's not your fault. It wasn't your doing. She gave up on herself a long, long time ago. She quit - on her son, her family, everything she had, she quit. Noone could have saved her, least of all her own baby that she treated like an animal. She was a broken woman long before you came into her life. You've got to give her up. It's not your doing. You deserve, Dave, you deserve to be free."

"I could have--" I protested.

"No!" Marsha shouted. "Tell me, tell yourself, what was the one thing you could have possibly done to prevent her self-destruction?"

"Been a better son? I dunno." I shook my head. "I just don't know."

"You're a good son now, and you always have been. No matter what happens to us, for your own peace of mind, after all your years of searching, you need to understand, it wasn't your doing."

Feeling th pressure beginning to ease, I stammered, "It's just, I feel my entire - and I mean my entire - life, since I was a kid - it's like I saw everything swirling around me, and somehow I allowed things to take over, to take control of me because I never felt I deserved anything but that. That's why I tried to bury the dirt; that's why I eat crap every day of my life. I don't deserve any better."

"I know there's nothing I could have done to stop her, but that doesn't help, doesn't stop it from gnawing at me every day. And because of that, I feel so undeserving, especially when it comes to you. You're too pure." I let out a deep breath. "I can't do it anymore. I'm just tired, tired of swimming against the tide, proving myself... I'm tired."

-----

"When I'm with you, Marsha... I feel clean. You ease my shame."

"And you're my white knight. Together, back to back, we can do anything, Dave," Marsha cried. "Can't you see that all I want is to be with you?"

My insides became unglued. As much as I tried to drive Marsha away, my heart ached for her to stay. With my anxiety spent and my heart bursting, I wrapped my arms around Marsha's waist with my head bent in her lap. "I'll never deserve you. You're my best friend. I love you. You're the one, Marsha. The only one... The only one I trust."

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(This extract has Dave talking to his little son)

"Dad... Am I going to make it?"

"Absolutely. Not a doubt in my mind."

"How do you know?"

"I know." I nodded my head. "I know you. You're a terrific young man. You're kind. You're sensitive. You know right from wrong, and, most important, you've got a good heart." Switching topics for a moment, I admitted, "I know our divorce wasn't easy, and I am sorry. I truly am. I know school isn't always easy, or dealing with other kids, or things you have to face on a daily basis. No offense, but that's life. Everybody has problems. Everyone.

But you're different: you deal with things. It's not always easy, but that's the way it is. I'm not trying to be a tough guy about this, but no matter what happens to you, it doesn't give you an excuse to blame others or wallow in self-pity. Your mother, your teachers, others who love you, or even myself: we can only help you so far. It's going to be up to you to make it happen. No one's perfect. No one has a perfect life. Your mother and I tried to make it work out. But it didn't . And as you grow older, maybe you can learn something positive from our mistakes.

You're going to be fine. You've got s strong heart. In life you're going to make mistakes, you're going to fall down, but it's getting up that counts. There are so many people who cave in at the first sign of trouble. They quit school, they act like they know it all, and develop a habit of quitting on everything. You're better than that. If you quit, everything you fought for would have been in vain. The thing is, at the end of the day you still have to face yourself. ... Stay on your course. Be true to yourself, and you'll be fine."

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(Extract from a letter Dave wrote to Marsha)

It is at times extremely difficult for me to open up and talk to a woman like you. Until recently, I never had.

Getting close to someone, anyone, is very, very hard for me.

It is easier, safer for me to watch from a distance. Sometimes I feel so lost. I've never been able to experience things like normal people; like being held as the sun goes down or feeling safe and 'carefree' with a woman. A sensation I have yet to experience. So, I watch others and smile for their joy. Sometimes, that's enough. I'll make eye contact, bow my head in respect, and stroll off feeling a little warmer inside, thinking I would never be able to share moments in time like other couples.

Somehow lately I believe this is the springtime of mt life. I've worked hard, planted many things, and soon they will blossom and grow before my eyes. I'm still scared, but no longer terrified. I can live with that. In an odd sense, being on the constant mental defensive is a comfort zone of its own. But one day I would like to be a real person. A person who is able to let down his guard and let someone in. Before I die I would like to experience that. I want to shelve my former life's mistakes. I would like to live in total peace, in every sense of the word.

If I have to remain alone, I will. Above all I know not only can I survive , but I can trust myself. And I feel secure with that premise, as well as knowing I will not cause anyone else anguish.

I still dream of a home ... Maybe, one day, I'll have a home. Then maybe one day I can come home... home to you.

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As I look back, I fully realize I made a fair amount of mistakes. Like many individuals who suffer from low esteem, I, too, allowed myself to become associated with others who mistook my kindness or generosity as a sign of weakness and attempted to exploit that for their own agenda. At the time, part of me felt as though I were a schoolboy willing to do anything just to gain acceptance so others would approve of or believe in me. I never even thought about protecting my interests, or maintaining the standards I had fought so hard for - even though I had fully realized how grave my situations were - because of fear of rejection and being all alone. But now, time, experience, and maturity have become valuable allies for me.

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Perhaps because of my past, the most important things for me are still the simplest - feeling the sun's warm rays upon my back or gazing up at the clear blue sky. Even to this day, I would not change one moment of my life. If it all ends now, I have lived, I have learned, and I have been loved. The greatest lesson is the gift of life, and no matter what, tomorrow is another day.