I said I'd finish it. Anyway, to shorten the story, I, who have never gotten out of bed before 10, am forced to get up, get dressed, be coherent, and go to her school... which is not close in any sense of the word.
Well I did it. I didn't like it, but I did it.
She also asked me to read the last entry in her journal.
Hello... I got the same condition you do... you think I want to hear about you wanting to kill yourself?!?! Do you think this is easy for me? You think I don't have the same thoughts? Well, actually, I don't. We have very different reasons for wanting the same thing.
No. She doesn't know. She'll never know unless she's reading this (and that makes me wonder how she got the URL and got savvy enough to ind this). So she doesn't know that every time she tries to make me understand what she's feeling and what she's going through, forgetting that I already know, she's in fact triggering the same thing in me, so then I have to control mine and hers.
...I love you, mother, but sometimes you can be so emotionally selfish.
