April 22, 2005

Rear Projection

It's fairly late on a Friday night, punkin.

Your mother has been asleep for hours, she's so tired just from lugging your lazy bum around that she generally crashes out as soon as I get home. It was touch and go for a while whether I was going to get stuck at work for most of the weekend, but the glory that is technology and the internet have triumphed once again over the forces of darkness and I don't have to.

As I was lying there in bed, listening to your mother making her dulcet night music, I began to think about what this behemoth of a piece of writing is beginning to represent to me and to you, and to what sort of an effect it could have on our relationship.

I realised fairly quickly that it's immaterial. That this diary, for better or for worse now that so many people have read parts of it, is a part of our relationship, and it forms part of who I am.

As for who YOU are, well that remains to be seen.

Love you.

No comments: