I miss him so much. I want my best friend back. I want to hug him and tell him just how much he means to me. I just want to see him again. I want so badly to see his bright blue eyes and blonde hair.
But I can’t.
He’s dead.
He would be ashamed of me. Drugs, alcohol, cutting, and my bitter attitude. Not much to be proud of.
There’s a part of me, though that thinks that he would be proud of me. I’ve been to hell and back, with both physical and emotional damages, but I’m still breathing. I can walk into a room and act […]