I can’t do nothing about it. I guess I just have to keep my mouth shut. I don’t know. I don’t fucking know. I want to talk to someone. Secrets are killing me. But I can’t because they wouldn’t understand.
When you don’t text me back immediately, I freak out. I think your dead. I think about your funerals and shit like that.
Will you ever go? Will you ever do it? It’s been months now and we are just turning around.
I’m tired. I’m happy but tired.
It’s hot outside, today. It’s nice.