Cut down your discomfort wings.
Okay.
Things are..
good?
Okay.
So I lied.
They aren't so good.
They aren't so bad either.
I get to go to the Underoath concert.
eh..yay.
but
I guess,
to say the least,
I've lost some people.
And I can't say that's my fault.
Don't know if it's anybody's.
I can't fix it.
I didn't do anything wrong.
But nobody sees that.
Ever.
I try to keep things clean.
I try to keep them strong.
I'm not different.
I haven't changed.
I like who I've become.
Because I haven't become anything
to be ashamed of.
Don't want to deal with me?
Okay.
You can stop reading this now.
Want to hear my story?
Okay.
I'll tell you.
If you'll listen with a full ear.
Or read with open eyes.
This is not my fault.
I didn't choose the path you did.
And I know I couldn't choose for you.
Forgive me for trying.
I APOLOGIZE for trying to protect you.
and I APOLOGIZE for wishing that you
would NEVER become anything like my mother.
I haven't disowned anybody.
Nor anything.
So this sure as hell isn't on me.
Nor am I saying it's on anyone.
So as of this, I don't know what to do.
And as of this, I'm done.
goodbye.