I just don't understand how people can treat other people so badly, and not have the common decency to talk to them about it. I have a lot of shit to get off my chest and not a lot of time to do it. I wish I had something to say that would make my life whole again, to make me feel happy again. But I just don't. I've tried, it didn't work.
I wish, I hope, I dream that someday things can be the way that they once were. But I know deep down inside that they won't. It's over, Jesse. Deal with it. Grow up; take it like a man.
Why do the good things always have to end? And why do they never end in my favor? And why has this current thing hurt me more than I ever thought humanly possible? I can't eat, I can't sleep, I can't move. I could barely gather the energy to write this.
I'd change; I'd do anything to change. But I guess it just isn't good enough, it's too late for me. I'm hopeless, I'm worthless.
But on the bright side of it all, I have good friends that will find a way to pull me through this. And I think that they're going to have to. I can't do this on my own.