Heather,
You have this uncanny ability to make my day the most beautiful or the most horrible that I've had. You make me feel so good and you make me feel so bad. But really, there's just one thing that really gets under my skin, tears at my nerves, sending me reeling, convulsing on the ground from the parasites chewing through my nerves that control my motor functions. Of course, this never happens, but what does is basically the equivalent.
What's this thing you do? Going out. Going out and getting drunk or high. It bothers me on so many different levels. I get jealous that you can do those things and I cannot. I get worried that you're going to die driving drunk or an overdose on something or other or everything. I get angry because I know that at any moment, you could be forgetting who I am and sleeping with some random person. You go out whenever you want, school night or no. Most times, you're going out to do something you shouldn't be doing when you could stay home and keep me company all night. The feeling that I get when you do this... it doesn't have a name. I feel like you don't care. I feel like you are going out because it's a billion times more enjoyable than talking with me. And especially tonight, that's what gets me the most. We haven't had contact for weeks. Weeks, Heather. I'm lonely as shit. I don't get the attention I need. Sure, I may be demanding and selfish but I don't give a fuck anymore.
But at the same time, when I'm feeling so shitty about all of this, I feel guilty about wanting you to stay here with me when you could be out having a better time. I don't want to keep you from that. I just wish you had the desire to stay with me more than you had the desire to go out and get shitfaced all the time.
But hell, what am I talking about? Perhaps I just don't get it. Maybe I'm really not worth it.
Because I sure as hell don't feel worth it.
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