Hey-o!
I'm 21 now! Go me.
The more time I spend around her, the harder it's becoming for me to grasp things and not lose it.
Part of me wants to go through with it, to tell her I want her, that I need her.
The other part of me reminds me that it was my fault things ended up this way, and that I'd be doing the same thing all over again.
Fuck my conscience.
I can now drown my sorrow in alcohol. Score.