I'm still mad at you. Dunno when that'll stop. So yeah, it's not that I'm avoiding you, I just don't want to be around you right now. For five minutes, I would like to figure out my own problems, rather than be drowned in yours.

Not that you'll know this, because you don't even know about THIS. Therefore, you probably still don't even know I'm mad at you. Which is fine I guess. It's not like it's ever gotten me anywhere, right?



I want to go to sleep. And not wake up until your life is straightened out.

Hmm.

I like your kisses.




Why can't I find your flaws? I realize it's only been three weeks or so, but you'd think, at least one or two would show up by now... All I can think of is the Navy.

But I guess that is a pretty big flaw. 4 years is a long time. I'm setting myself up for something terrible. I might as well admit it.

One year.

Go me.

Trying to convince someone not to kill themselves, and to stop cutting is tiring. Now I feel bad for all those people who were there for me. I know how they felt, when they said those things you say to people who are feeling like that.

"If you didn't die when you tried to end it, it's not your time to die."

"You've made it this far, you're strong enough to go on."

"Do you really want to hurt all those people who care about you?"

You always feel good about it after, when they tell you that you really did help. I don't remember telling anyone that, but I hope I did. If not, then that's really sucky for them, and I'd feel terrible.

The only other bad thing about it, is it's so hard to tell someone not to cut. Not to hurt themselves. When you wish soooo bad you still could. This Monday, the 19th, will be my one year mark. I'll have gone a whole fucking year without it. So why don't I feel good about that? Shouldn't I feel accomplished? Well I really, honestly don't. I don't know why. Actually, probably because I just replaced that with other things, so it's not like I really quit. I quit the action of it, but not the idea. So I kinda suck.

What do you give someone on their one year anniversary of being cut free? Scar cream?


And am I really this disappointed that I haven't talked to him today, and that he didn't call me last night, even though he said he would? Really? Patheticccc. Yes, with four c's.

I hate seeing you like that so much. Blazed outta your mind. All jittery and twitching. Eyes sunken in. But you still have that smile on your face. How can you be happy with who you are now. It tears me up inside to see you like that.

You got your license suspened because they found weed in your car? Saw that coming.

They want to send you to jail? No. No no no no. That can't happen. I don't want you to get locked up again. You'll hate it. It didn't help you before, why would it now.

But maybe it would. You'd be there longer probably. But you'd just get bitter, and angry. I know you. That's how you think. Everyone tries so hard to help you, but you're throwing it all away. I would do anything, I've told you that a million times. I want you to get better, but you won't until you give it all up. I know you can. You're selfless, except for this. I don't want to hear that someone found you dead under a bridge. That would kill me, and you know it.

Why don't I have any luck.

In the boy department. Seriously. It's getting old.

I was kinda starting to like you too. But of course. You joined the Navy, and are leaving in January. That's sooo awesome.

If you get a chance,

Go look at the sky, right now. Hurry, before it's gone. The clouds look like they're made of molten gold.

It's making me feel sick. I wish stress didn't affect my body so much. I don't even hardly understand why it does, but I hate it none the less.

I feel so unsure
As I take your hand and lead you to the dance floor
As the music dies, something in your eyes
Calls to mind a silver screen and all those sad goodbyes

I'm never gonna dance again
Cause guilty feet have got no rhythm
Though it's easy to pretend
I know you're not a fool
I should have known better than to cheat a friend
And waste the chance that I'd been given
So I'm never gonna dance again
The way I danced with you

Time can never mend
The careless whispers of a good friend
To the heart and mind
Ignorance is kind
And there's no comfort in the truth
Pain is all you'll find

I'm never gonna dance again
Cause guilty feet have got no rhythm
Though it's easy to pretend
I know you're not a fool
I should have known better than to cheat a friend
And waste the chance that I'd been givenS
o I'm never gonna dance again
The way I danced with you

Tonight the music seems so loud
I wish that we could lose the crowd
Maybe it's better this way
We'd hurt each other with the things we want to say
We could have been so good together
We could have lived this dance forever
But now who's gonna dance with me?
Please stay

I'm never gonna dance again
Cause guilty feet have got no rhythm
Though it's easy to pretend
I know you're not a fool
I should have known better than to cheat a friend
And waste the chance that I'd been given
So I'm never gonna dance again
The way I danced with you


I wish things were different.

But the only texts I get from you say "Hit me up if you know anyone who needs green."

At least you hung up my painting. It means alot.

I hate that. I hate it alot. It was stupid, and wrong, and should never have happened. To put it mildly. And now it just confuses me. One second, it seems like the feelings mutual, another, it's so far from it.

What is going on.

So much to say, but nothing to write.

Don't you hate that?

My aunt told me I should be prepared to get a phone calling saying he was found dead somewhere. That's what she's waiting for.

How do you prepare yourself for that? All I could give to her in response is a shrug of my shoulders and an attempted eye roll. Then an abrubt subject change. But this probably won't be one of those things I can ignore until it no longer exists. How am I supposed to react to that? That's what I want to know. I know how I can act, and how I am acting, but not how everyone else would. I have power here. And that scares me. There's a very good chance if I got over all the shit he's done, and started talking to him again, for the first time in what...two years?, he'd probably pull it together. But maybe not. Maybe I'm doing what I should. Sitting here, and pretending I don't give a rats fucking ass about him, because all he did was donate some sperm and leave. He never thought about us, until it was too late. He didn't stop suckin' off those bottles until I ended up in the hospital. Who's to say he hasn't gone back. No one fucking knows anymore. What the FUCK.

I don't know what to do. Should I care if he dies? Because I do, alot. But only the people who read this will ever know.