"..When all we wanted was the dream
To have and to hold that precious little thing
Like every generation yields
The new born hope unjaded by their years

Pressed up against the glass
I found myself wanting sympathy
But to be consumed again
Oh I know would be the death of me
And there is a love that's inherently given
A kind of blindness offered to appease
And in that light of forbidden joy
Oh I know I won't receive it.."


I really should just hate you. Wall myself up and try to calcify everything I'm feeling into a little ball of anger and fury. It's there, certainly. But, the larger part of me.. just misses you. I constantly slide my phone open, hoping for some little message informing me that this was all just a bad dream. That it's okay.

I'm crying every day. Not because of my position, but because you're gone. Because it's hell, moving through the hours without you. I'm so tired of sobbing. I'm so tired of always hurting and being exhausted. I'm on the verge of being on the street, still horribly sick, but all I can think of is the fact I may never have the comfort of your voice at night again.

What did you want me to do, Puppy? Lie? Pretend that I was happy all of the time, that I could handle it? You know I did what was right. I wish I could undo it. I wish I could have never said anything. I wish I were dead. I wish I wouldn't wake up in the morning. I can't carry this forever. Knowing that I wasn't enough. That my love was second-best.

I'm not sure what I should have expected-- I've never been enough for anyone in my life. My parents, Jen, anyone.

I can't make it through this one. We both know that. I've fallen into the grave, and even though I'm screaming and clawing at the walls.. They're still shoveling in the dirt.