(no subject)
This journal is done. I won't delete it. for fear that it will be my only friend over the rough time coming. yeah. Spitit is slowy breaking in this category. No one cares, and it just makes me cry. I think alot as to why I got it. I'll always be separate because of it, and no one understands. They think I'm the same, they don't understand what it's like to have poison for blood. It hurts so bad. I want someone to hold me, but only my mom did that when I cried. No one else cared. No it's just that no one cares. I'm going to lay down, I'm going to cry more, But I do have one final line to add before I close this mental hell exposed:
If you ever come across someone with Hepititis, don't shun them, don't hate them, but whatever you do, don't pity them. Just let them know you're there for them. It's all they need, and it's all I ever wanted.
If you ever come across someone with Hepititis, don't shun them, don't hate them, but whatever you do, don't pity them. Just let them know you're there for them. It's all they need, and it's all I ever wanted.