What to say about Sandy?

She was never really part of the online clique that had been so much a part of my own pain. Even though she was caught up in it.

Sandy was on the edge. Outside looking in on it all. That side though, there was enough hurt for her as well.

I wonder, now, how much of it was self inflicted. It's so easy to hit yourself when you swing in the dark. Too easy to laugh at yourself after.

That's what we're talking about here - darkness. All those dark forms are accessible through simply screens. They wait outside of our comfortable existences, silently judging, and in the end easily pulling us in. Whispers promising something interesting or just something out of place. Window dressing for an opening that had no view. Pure emptiness.

No matter what it was, it was still meaningless. This is something Sandy knew, but I did not. Perhaps I didn't want to know, but wanting had very little to do with it.

We wanted something more from our pet shadows - some new reality that they could never give. Somewhere, down deep, we knew for certain that this was the case but couldn't admit it. We lied to ourselves and to each other.

Now we return with fresh baskets against our chests. All we say, is said slowly. The words are chosen with care. The thoughts behind them, sink toward something else. We can only abide by the safe and comfortable words now.

I think she knows, as I do now, that there are damaged people out there. Some will take all you have to give without a thought. Others seem to spend all their time devising ways to get more.

Can we find some middle ground? Something safe but where we can still talk?