About the stoppage?

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I sure thought about it.  Did for a moment.  Her face, crumpled, like a used tissue.  Something about that girl in the store got to me.  Was it hate, terror, simple fear, sympathy, empathy.  It was crushing to watch.  Intense.  Potentially dangerous.  That is the type of reaction that can turn murderous, quickly, if from a certain direction.  I simply could not tell what the source was.  She went from being friendly and helpful to... that... so fast.  Two conversations, I think.  Somewhere in the last she just changed.  I just wanted to get out of there, away from her, and make sure no one was coming up behind me.  Then to get out of the store and be on my way as fast as possible.

Yeah, I didn't want to have anything to do with anyone for a while.  That was creepy to watch from this side.  I wonder if I, or my notions, do that to people.  I am so used to things, true or not, it is how I see, remember, feel.  If I do cause up to murderous reactions...  I will have to think about things.  Perhaps make it so only some can read here.  It's such a lot of work to get people's email, then to send them a link and hope that all works out, messing with this and that... plus knowing there are quite a few who read hear 'quietly'.  Invisible to my eyes and what tech I have, but not to my nature.  People who can, it seems, mostly, handle it.

Are my stories truly that terrible?  Though she was young, female, and different in another way.  Weened on a dill pickle, look on her puss in a thousandth of a second as if recognizing, and then disappeared freckles on that fish, maybe Dr. Jeckyl with a death wish?  *bam*  Right in the noodle.

Still, I decided, leave it be.  She'll... they'll... learn... or go away.  I can't make the world easy or nice for them.  It would be a lie to let them go on believing it's easy, it gets better, or such.  And... my page is more about making it through that, to a better way.  There is a better way, even in the pain.  Hopefully, if they read here, and it hurts, they will be more persuaded to live more fully, in hope, and have wonderful memories, than to hide in the shadows.  The horrors of love lost, failed attempts even for great effort, living beyond the grave even on into abject suffering... I am saying... is worth it.  Give the good and bad, right and wrong, on to God.  He's big enough if you are.  Amen, kiddies.

Hmm... perhaps she thinks I murdered her.  In a way I did.  But with seed she most happily accepted.  She stole my child along with quitting though, so I... call it a draw.  Yeah, bastard.  I'm simply no happier with her when she is coldest and deadest at me, than she is at me.