There's so much to say, to explain ,to think about. Dear god, I don't know. I'm sorry.
Today it begins. Last night took forever, nothing is easy and I don't know how hard this will be. With any luck things improve.
Everyone looks at me and says how brave I am for helping someone who's hurt me so much. Why do they all see me as the victim? I'm the one who's done the damage, I'm the one who's broken everything. I'm the one who deserves the hate and loathing and disgust. I'm the one that they should scorn, not him. And they aren't, we're here to help, but they harbor such an antagonistic attitude. Or maybe it just seems like it? I don't know, I don't know.
Sleep is faulty. Exams today, we'll see how those go. I'm placing my faith in the curve.
I'm sick to my stomach, literally. I'm worried and terrified and feel like I screwed up more, now. Like I've ruined it all.
Again.
I should have said more. I should have explained more. But I had to leave. They told me to leave. I remember some people saying some amazing things. Things I wanted to remember. But all I can recall is how he looked. Feral. Pissed. Depressed, broken, angry. I don't know what to do. I want to help. I want to help so fucking bad.
I hate him but I love him, but I;m still the worst thing that's ever happened to him. I can't watch him die. This is all I can do. This is the most I can do. If only I thought it'd work.
I need music, I need something. But there;s no lyrics for this remorse, no lyrics to hold onto anymore.
I've been told I'm a strong person. Oh, if only that we're true. Perhaps it is, but only in some things. You sit there amazed that I took all his words without backlash. How did things look to you all? I don't remember what I did. Was I really strong? Because the entire time, I felt as though I should have been doing more.
Everyone was confused, "Why would you hug him, after that?" And it seemed so natural to me to want to hug him, I didn't even care what he'd said. I wanted to bid him goodbye positively. Knowing that I cared. I doubt it would have helped. But what does it mean that I still wanted to, post all that? I love him, I care about him so much, and sometimes I hate him. But this is so.
I don't know.
Fuck, I hate crying.
I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry.