(no subject)
Nobody is reading, & I'm quite used to it. But there are those & will continue to be those that see the value in a relationship with me... weird though it may always be.
He's laying behind me, shirtless in a non-sexy-way, & thrashing about in his literally fitful slumber.
We got to eat. Dnner at Twin Peaks. That's it. He made a point to mention watching a white-peach-Brittney-Blazed-ass, & yet...
... Bro, what is there here for me.
... There's nothing, any longer.
Squirrel has already accepted the fact that he's going to call & make the MHMR intake for you because I do NOT do the phone.
& We just pray it makes any difference at all. Mental illness is the cruelest of the ambiguous losses. It would legit be easier on me if he straight-up committed suicide, because then then there would be space for me to grieve the loss & move on.
Bc/RC