I wish I felt comfortable talking to you about how I feel, especially since you’re the greatest friend I could ever ask for. You got on my back one time about not knowing me as well as you wish you could, but everything I keep from you is for a reason. You live such a happy life, and I don’t ever want to bring you down. I fake being happy, because I feel inadequate already– imagine if you knew how upset I am. And when we drink, I’m not as much of a lightweight as I appear to be. It’s allowed for drunk people to open up and ramble, so I act that way so you won’t hold a stigma against me or take me completely seriously. I don’t want to disappoint you, nor do I want your sympathy. I simply want to do away with myself and disappear. I may not have the guts to do it now, but my dog’s not getting any younger, and he’s all I have. Once he’s gone, I’m gone. I wish I could tell you. I wish I could tell someone. I spent my life trying to make myself a good example for people, and yet this is my downfall. What a loser.