I must be the only person to ever make mistakes. And Jesus Christ, have
I made a few.
My grades aren't near to my parent's perfection, my jobs
are killing me, my best friend doesn't want to hear what matters the
most, my other best friend -- we're too busy for one another, the
guy who I swore would never get to me got to me, and the guy I
care the most about is probably the angriest at me, that is if God
doesn't count. And yes, I'm in the pity me stage, but don't bother
really showing compassion or I'll mellow in it. Hopefully everything
will get better soon. My mom just got off the phone with Bush, and I
have to make up everything, rather than just...well, one. And once I
turn 18, the job thing will be solved. And protecting Samantha is more
important than tending to my bruised ego and flawed mistakes. And
Melanie and I will catch up; we always do. That kid's just a ghost of
the past who's hauntings maybe one day I'll be able to completely
ignore. And the guy I care the most about cares about me, too. Or so
that's the notion I'll cling to until this is all over.
Pity loves company, so leave me alone.
Anna, I love you. Thanks for the chat.