Written May 16, 2011
Ten minutes wouldn’t be enough, even if I didn’t choke back all my words. Yeah, I made a list; I organized all my thoughts. But how can I try to say them when I know you don’t have a clue? You’re far more logical than me, and even I know I’m not making sense. (Hell, even Lisa, with years of experience, doesn’t get how I’m scared when I’m losing on this.) God dammit, my dear, listen— I have to fend for myself way too soon. And I’m only hesitantly trying to keep pushing forward. I need you to understand that I really don’t know if I can do this. I need you, in general, but I’m cut off from you, too. Someone hold me accountable, ‘cause I don’t think this will end well. I’m not doing this for me. And I think I can’t go much longer without you.