I miss you

Jim.
God dammit Jim.
Why did you take yourself away from us? Why did you have to end your life? Why didn’t you reach out when I was leaving our apartment and say “No, I need your help.”? Did you see your mom breaking apart as she was carrying a little pine box with her youngest son’s ashes in? Did you see her last goodbye to you? Did you see my pain, my shattering the half empty wine bottle against the unfeeling asphalt because it hurt so bad and I still couldn’t scream and cry out for you? Did you see Nick when he texted me the news? Your brother when he confirmed to me that it was suicide? Your dad unable to work?
Please. I miss you. If you are out there somewhere, let me know you’re doing better.

Binging so bad

I am so done binging. It is making me sick, so sick that I could die from obesity in the long run.

It has been 15 days now. 15 days. I have binged every single night. I haven’t been able to stop, and each time that I get close, he stares at me the wrong way or wants to pick a fight, and I want to scream FUCK YOU!!!!

I am a rebellious teenager all over again who does not want to ha e sex with their partner.

I hat him. I fuxkong hate him. I want a divorce, but I love him too much to ask him for one.

God damn!