I’m mad because I have to go hang out with the boy today. I don’t have to specifically, but it’s expected that when I’m around I’ll see him on weekends. I don’t want to, I’ll say it again. And I shouldn’t… because I just caught myself thinking thoughts that have absolutely no place in a relationship like this. He is definitely not worth hating.
I’m crying anyway. I’m afraid the surgery didn’t work, I am in pain again and physically, with my hand on my body, it doesn’t feel right. I’m back to the state that I was when I started this page, waking up crying for no reason and then writing long streams of conscious thought to see if I can pick out some reason why, like examining the vomit of a suicide attempt victim to see if you can find any of the pills, to know what poison to treat for.