this weekend was going to be great. I was going to go out with two of my very best friends, and smoke a little something something. I was going to have one of them stay over, their parents had even said yes, then, on sunday, I was going to go to a concert, have a great night, then go home, paint, and go to bed. It would have gotten me through weeks. just the memories of what a great few days it has been, showing me that it does get better.
‘No Ema! because you never do anything right so how the hell do you think you deserve to go. you expect me to let your friend stay over after all the bullshit you do. No!’
just a wall, for every right turn. if only, if only a wall for every left. that’d be nice.
I’ll be staying home this weekend, crying, cutting, and maybe more crying. (: thanks mom, you’ve really done something great today. you’ve made your daughter hurt…again.