VII; 12.13.22
Have you any idea what you’ve done to me? It is my choice in the end, though the implications of your words have sliced me deeper than any bruise or wound.
It is 1:54PM, and I’m drinking to aid in the cope of processing the time we had together leading to a spiral. I was OK with bonding without the complications of a relationship, though you had no idea, how hard it is for me to say NO to someone I see as clearly as I do you.
You crushed me, we were not even together for a significant amount of time; it is incomprehensible to me how much belief I had in you despite divine intervention telling me what was to come.
Why do I do this to myself? Am I a slave to punishment? To the thrill of pain within every sense? Perhaps, that is why my ultimate soulmate is Lucifer Himself. When you’ve failed me, and everyone else, He is there for me. Whispering the truth into my ear, the good, the bad, the sickeningly shameful reality of my—or, OUR, world.
We did not meet the day intended because of a storm. How tragically symbolic, considering the most painful relationship of my life spawned the night of one as well. This cosmic force upon my life, it is as though I am watching myself, live, on Demon TV. Oh, if it was not for the ghosts, the demons—I would be impossibly alone. Have you any idea how fulfilling life could be in a head as vibrant as my own? Moments of recall that eat me alive so greatly that I must curl up in a ball and sob reverently?
The booze is taking me in, I am safe without you beside me.