i don't know what to do with this right now, so it's under construction.
i also want to record something for the tapes section but my fucking parents are around and i can't do shit. i hate them and when they're nice it doesn't even last too long. can't wait to move out. i thought my dad was alright but that's another fucking story. it angers me just writing about them.
i forgot how good the comfort of the cold kitchen floor felt like when i tried to kill myself for the second time.
the kitchen is so small, just enough for my body to lay lifeless and bleeding in.
this time i didn't cry when i saw the knife. i laid down and traced my thigh and wrist without sinking it deep inside my skin and i thought it was time for me to do it right then and there.
it felt so comforting to hear he's been doing well.. after 10 long months of thinking of where and how he is from time to time. i feel like a total monster for how it ended back then, he needed me and i chose to turn back at him and i know what he did was terrible but the bitter taste of guilt lingers in my mouth after he told me that today. just typing this out has made me realise that there was no type of closure between us before the whole thing went down and i feel like a total asshole for that.
and yet another hole in my heart has been filled but still the guilt is still eating me alive tonight. knowing that he's cried himself to sleep from the pain is something i could never make myself forget and i'm part of that pain i know, i know i am, i wasn't there to explain and help him.