Dear Diary,
It is a pretty mess I have created for myself. ##### no longer trusts me, nor can I fault her for it. I did lie to her. And why? Because I wanted to be alone with ##### for a moment, so I treated her as I would a servant. She, the closest thing I have to a friend. Nor was that the first time I lied to her about him. But she sees through my lies as if I were made of glass. I am ashamed of myself and deserve every dirty look she turns my way. ##### is no less angry with me. She told him what had happened of course. I can expect no help from that quarter in the future. Not that I ever did, but knowing an avenue is closed is disquieting.
Though I cannot help but wonder if ##### is lying herself. Before, I was under the impression only a kiss was exchanged. Now she says ##### forced himself on her. The very thought of it being true makes me confused and sick to the stomach. Yet he has not tried the same with me, in spite of having had the opportunity often enough. Can it possibly be true or is ##### trying to cover something up? Is ##### perhaps seeing her in secret? If so, who else is he seeing? Perhaps that is why she was so angry when I sent her from the room? He claims it was nothing but a kiss and the conversation ends there. But then, when does he ever want to talk about anything? He says he trusts me, yet there he is in the Pony, speaking openly of plans to some woman while I know nothing of anything. I have allowed him get close enough to me that that too, hurts. It would seem that I am merely another toy for him to play with. I knew this might be the case, yet was willing to take the chance. More fool I.
How I miss #####. He too, lied and tricked me, but at least he gave me the impression of being my partner before it all turned sour. He was always there, telling me stories and anecdotes, dogging my footsteps wherever I went, even when I made it clear I did not wish for his presence. He was a merry companion despite his faults.
My mentor's disapproving gaze is almost tangible, though she is miles away and knows nothing of all this. Perhaps it is time to conclude that ##### is no different from the rest after all.
