[PRIVATE] Oh, I have hated and loved you, I have hidden behind you, but I finally see.
John's on his way over. I dunno what to do about Sammie. She's a wreck. A mess. A broken shell of herself. And part of me wants to dig inside of her and fill her back up so she's not a broken shell anymore, but I know she has to do it herself. I can't fix her. She's not something I can just glue back together, but I know she's going to be alright. I just want to figure out a way to make it happen sooner rather than later.
So John's going to see what he can do with her and I'm going to live up to my side of the bargain and go see Byron. I just hope I don't hit him.
I wanna hit him.
I wanna hit him really bad.
However, I know he's probably just as much of a wreck as she is because it's yet again that he's managed to fuck himself over because he can't stop drinking and doing drugs long enough to see that the rest of the world lives in reality. We have reactions to his actions. He's not insulated from the world.
This is a stupid idea, though. I don't know how much I'll be able to help. I'm just me, after all.
I feel like none of this is real anymore and I hate it. Sometimes I feel like the only thing that's real anymore is Jack. And maybe he's just a figment of my life before I left home. Maybe he's not even real anymore, either. I realized I'm always numb. Always set aside. Always removed from the situation anymore.
If I can't feel anything anymore, does that mean I'm not real, either?
So John's going to see what he can do with her and I'm going to live up to my side of the bargain and go see Byron. I just hope I don't hit him.
I wanna hit him.
I wanna hit him really bad.
However, I know he's probably just as much of a wreck as she is because it's yet again that he's managed to fuck himself over because he can't stop drinking and doing drugs long enough to see that the rest of the world lives in reality. We have reactions to his actions. He's not insulated from the world.
This is a stupid idea, though. I don't know how much I'll be able to help. I'm just me, after all.
I feel like none of this is real anymore and I hate it. Sometimes I feel like the only thing that's real anymore is Jack. And maybe he's just a figment of my life before I left home. Maybe he's not even real anymore, either. I realized I'm always numb. Always set aside. Always removed from the situation anymore.
If I can't feel anything anymore, does that mean I'm not real, either?