And I'm going to finish the book I've been meaning to finish. It entails a lot of research and a question of how evil can evil truly be and yet still be loved? Is evil capable of love? Well... I've got the plot down. I just need to write down the conversations. I don't necessarily have to make a frickin' great book on the first try, right? It's my first ever, anyway...
I'm on a the verge of tears but I am successfully able to hold them in. I don't want to cry here where no one really cares how I feel. I have to hold it in. He's not saying anything and it hurts just a little because he makes me feel like crap sometimes. Whenever I feel like this, I don't want to feel much of anything anymore. I don't want to care anymore. There is me with him and there is me without him. There's a marked difference because the me without him is an empty shell. But then, no matter how empty I may be, I am still myself, right? No one understands why I am like this. Maybe someone out there does but it hurts that even he doesn't understand. If he truly understand, then he would care enough to write, he would care enough to let me know that he's alive. Ah! I'm being scary again. And I am scary. It's not so much that I scare other people. It's more like I scare myself. Probably because this feeling of rage, this feeling of helples...
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