Delusion
I’ve been sick; doesn’t matter with what. I’ve been in the hospital. Poked, prodded, invaded, and stabbed, Greg’s thanksgiving was…original. As to my health, I’m well now. Well, back to normal. Chris and I are seeing each other again. Yea, I know… I’m Ted fucken Bundy! I’ve mailed the bomb to myself it’s just a matter of time until UPS knocks at my door and it explodes in my face. He makes me happy. Sure he’s hurt me in the past and I am sure the next round of pain is on my ass. I can hear the roaring as it hunts me like a tiger, ready to feast. But until then I’m happy. As for him being three hours away from his parole officer (me) I will delude my audacity and refuse to comment for fear that overwhelming emotion will take control. I’ve gotten so used to the hospital life that I keep wishing that there were a syringe that could cure me. Cure me of being dramatic, cure me of my trust issues, cure me of feeling alone. Any of those antidotes would work! Doctor fix me. I have a feeling I will update my journal more often - stay tuned.