I feel worst for my family. They know me, and they know that I am a hypocrite. And they know that I am a huge risk factor for them every single time they see me. But they love me, so they do. That fear must be painful. I wish they would believe a lie to just to make all that go away, but I know that doesn’t work, because it doesn’t work on me when they do it.
I wonder what the fuck is going to happen to me when I get old. My Grandmother was like that. What happens when your memory fades and you can’t remember what you were were hiding from, and what you were hiding from yourself. Was it a real fear, or something you just made up? Either way it is so scary finding out – either you find out that it was real, and now you have regrets, or that it never was, and now there are so many more regrets.