Yes Freddie. Now you know, while you know about my life; you really don’t know me. You don’t know me at all.

What you regard as knowing me, to me is only my biography and nothing more, those are easy things for me to talk about. I have a family, they are how they are and I’ve told you all about them.

So, when you wanted to say something that might make me be more open, my family isn’t one to get me there.

What does this say?

All the while I thought we were getting to know each other, it seems you really weren’t getting to know me. I must say I’m disappointed, a little because I thought of all people you would know me best.

I think I’ve always said,
My thoughts are the only things I can call my own. My feelings are the only things I know can never lead me wrong, no matter how simple, immature or not pleasant, they’re things I can always say are mine and can’t be replicated. To just be…

So simple.

Oh Freddie, it’s not that I don’t care about all I’ve told you but they aren’t my stories, my thoughts, my feelings. Those have other people’s experiences in them and if you asked my family what they thought, their answers wouldn’t be the same as mine; how could you have thought that that was as important to me as well, me?

I, I am how I am and by now I thought, you might have had a little clue.

So to answer your questions, on my list

I. God
II. My Family
III. Freddie
IV.
V.


But Freddie, even if you give up on me, you’ll always be on my list because to me, you’re that person I always told what mattered to me; though now it seems to you it wasn’t something you took seriously.