You're fragile, explosive. Silently explosive. The worst kind. I'm often afraid of you. Maybe not as much as others are, though. Well, you will get help if you ask for it. If you want something, you need to say it. If you don't want something, then you need to say that too.
Why make yourself go through this? What are you trying to get out of this? Or, more importantly, what are you trying to get away from?
Tell me. Tell us. Tell someone. Anyone. Somebody who might be able to help set this straight. Because, if you tell me that nothing's wrong now, I'll laugh. And you know you'll be lying too.
This wasn't how this is supposed to work. We had plans. Big plans. Long-term plans. Right?
If things are going to be like this, then why have I been seeing you as one of the people always present when I'm picturing my most important days? What was the point, then, of setting a place for you by default?
This sucks.
I miss you.
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