i am your sun, i do not shine.

i am in the worst mental state i have ever been in.

michelle is dead.

i wouldn't be who i am today without her. she helped me to grow out of someone i hated into someone i'm learning not to hate, and i will never get to tell her what that means to me. what she meant to me. everything she's helped me through, with just a handful of conversations and a good heart.

granger is dead.

i keep him on my left arm, colored in and facing outward so that i can look down and see him whenever i need his stupid fucking humor. we were so proud of him. he was about to finally get the help he needed, turn his health around. we are proud of him. a lifetime ahead turned into months into weeks into days into gone before we knew it. 

i didn't get to see him. instead i was in california at my dad's request, spending time with family i don't give a fuck about to see an aging grandma who's still alive when my best friend isn't.

granger saw my last message. i told him i love him. i tell myself i'm good with that but i'm fucking not. he died while i was on my way to him with the ten dollars that i never owed him in my pocket.

because i would do anything for my dad.

it's not fair for me to blame him for this. i know that. it's not his fault. shit was fucked up from the start.

but i blame him.

and then he takes my car from me.

i can't trust him anymore. and i'm realizing i haven't been able to for a very, very long time.

but i love him. and i'll make that mistake again, because i would do anything for my dad.

these last few months have been such a whirlwind of constant intense emotion that, even though i'm a champion at being able to compartmentalize and handle it and keep moving, i'm cracking.

i'm being swallowed by guilt long forgotten but never forgiven.

i'm drafting apologies for people who'd rather i was dead. and maybe it's selfish of me.

it is selfish of me. i hope that they'll get something out of it. that'll it help close the trauma i've caused, or help them move on, or maybe they'll get a kick knowing that i'm being eaten alive.

but i'm doing it for me. i have to acknowledge the boulder crushing my ribs before i'm able to get it off of my chest.

i don't care if they forgive me. truth be told, they probably shouldn't.

i'm just trying to forgive myself.

i'm trying to convince myself i deserve what i have.

a high school drop out who did fuck all through his late-teens and early-twenties shouldn't be living comfortably in a house that's not his with a job he's horribly underqualified for.

everything i've ever had has been given to me or has fallen in my lap.

my first car. my first apartment. the money to move to austin. a place to return to austin. a good job.

i didn't do any of this. other people did it for me. i have done nothing for myself except squander every advantage i've ever been given because i don't deserve it.

i hate myself for it. i'm trying to take it all away because it doesn't belong to me.

i'm acting like a child. i'm ruining my relationship. i'm spending money when i need to buy a fucking car so that there's one less thing driving her away from me.

i hate myself.

i hate myself.

i hate myself so fucking much.

i'm shifting blame and refusing responsibility for everything i'm doing wrong now because i'm too focused on everything i did wrong years ago. i'm a liar and a hypocrite and a coward and an asshole.

maybe i've always been this bad. i hope not. maybe it just feels worse now because i'm aware of it.

i want to be a good person.

i don't know how.

i think of who i want to be and all i can see is who i was and am and how there is far less difference between the two than i would like.

and i hate myself.

i'm shutting down and withdrawing because no one should have to deal with me.

maybe this is all just self pity. i know it sounds like it.

maybe writing this out was a waste of time. probably.

i am so tired of this.

i am so tired.

i just want to rewind to when i left albuquerque. when i was still okay.

maybe i was always this bad and i fooled myself into thinking i was better.

but i was happier. i had my friends. i had her. i had a sense of self. i was still excited for the future.

the only thing i have left is grit.

i'm a piece of shit, but i'm a stubborn one.

i'm trying.

maybe i've said that a million times. maybe it won't be enough.

but i'm giving this all i've got because it's all i have left.

i am a grain of sand, forever trapped inside your current

 it's 1:51 am. i have to take you home in the morning so you can go to your second day of work. i should probably be sleeping.

i love you.

every few moments i'll look over at you from my desk and i can't help the unconscious smile that crosses my face.

i love you.

i've never known anyone like you. it's cliche and stupid to say you complete me, but it's true in a more literal sense than most people mean it.

we fill gaps. you're good at what i'm not, and vice versa. we can take two halves and make a whole success story together. we both deserve it, after everything.

i think back a lot to when we first met. when i was dragged into that discord server by someone that i don't talk to anymore.

we used to butt heads a lot, and i thought you hated me. you say you don't remember that, but i do.

i remember it especially now. we have both grown so much from who we were those years ago. i didn't expect us to become even close friends at all, let alone what we are now.

i hesitate to say "dating" because that feels so dismissive to what i feel we are. we are not "dating". i can't put a word to it but it's so much more than that.

i love you.

i couldn't have made it here without you. i couldn't have stayed here without you. i wouldn't be any sort of worth your time if you weren't in my life.

i still don't think i'm worth your time.

i still fuck up, a lot. and it fucks me up, because you deserve nothing short of flawlessness.

i love you.

i hope one day i'm worth your time. in the meantime, thank you for wasting your time with me.

i love you.

...not as much as the way her god damn voice sounds

 i haven't felt this good about anything in a long time.

i didn't get much sleep last night, but that's alright

i'm going to do better this time.

you won't find objective truth in a final rhyming couplet.

i made it.

a step you can't take back

i'm moving this month.
in a couple weeks.
i still haven't
packed anything. done any of the shit i need for my car except the windshield, that my dad paid for.
all i did was get boxes, and make plans.

empty boxes, leaning against my closet door.
if you ask me what i'm going to do, i will give you my detailed long term step-by-step plan.
if you ask me what i've done, i'll shrug.

i'm running out of time.
i'm running out of time and i'm allowing myself to because i'm scared.

i am so fucking scared.

i don't want to come back.

everyone thinks i can.

everyone is so fucking certain but they've never seen how bad i can fuck everything up.

i really don't want to fuck up again. i don't want to come back. i want the move to be the thing that tells me who i am. i want austin to be the place that feels like home. i want this to be the last time i see my mom again until my dad's funeral.

i don't know that this is what's going to make me happy. i could never know that. but i know that getting away from albuquerque will make it a lot easier to be happy.

which is why failure is not a fucking option.

i am not coming back.

sometimes i'm awake thinkin' about fuckin' things up for myself again.

it's been a minute.

nearly three years since the last time i posted on here.

i still come back to read this sometimes.

i guess i should update.

i'm almost 23.

i don't talk to my mom anymore.

i'm not a boxer. i know how to box, but that dream never got off the ground. i'd still like to get into it seriously sometimes, but in the last three years i learned i have a huge problem with sticking to things.

i failed chasing the idea of being an EMT, a firefighter, anything in between.

i learned to exist in the moment. it's where i work best. planning was never my strong suit.

i don't know if i'm happier. i don't know what 'happy' means.

i think i'm in a better place than i used to be. i'm still fucked up, but i'm getting better. or at least, that's what people tell me. i'm not a good judge of myself.

i'm still learning how to treat people i care about. i'm trying to be more careful with my words. it doesn't always work. (i'm sorry jade.)

i've become more confident, i think. i handle social situations better. i still prefer to keep my nose in my phone and my thoughts to myself but i'm not afraid of talking to people.

i'm protective. i know this about myself now. i guess i always knew it, kind of, but recent events have brought it to the forefront of my attention. it's cliche to say it but i refuse to let anyone make my friends feel like shit.

i've been on a plane, now. it was cool. because of that, i'm planning on moving to austin. for the first time in my life, i have savings. i'm trying not to spend too much of it. sometimes i'm good at that, sometimes i spend six hundred bucks on a handgun.

but i told myself i couldn't have the three hundred dollar shotgun so, y'know, baby steps.

i don't know how much of that is self-sabotage and how much of it is me just being bad at handling money.

but i know i've never let myself get this close to success before.

i'm terrified. i'm terrified that rose is going to back out for some reason or other. i'm terrified that i won't be able to do it. i'm terrified that i'll have to come back to albuquerque with my tail between my legs.

my dad told me i'm a glutton for punishment, and i'm realizing right now as i write this that he didn't mean from her.

i'm my own punishment.

and i've been trying to break that habit for years.

i don't know what made me want to write. i'm not particularly sad, or angry. quarantine has left me with more time to think than act, i think.

maybe three years of shit is just too much to hold onto without putting it somewhere.

i just hope i'm better than the person i think i am.