So bloody mad at you, for not being here. For not being there.
For leaving me out in the middle of the night, obviously sad and unstable, when you knew how I felt. Knew that I several times a day thought about taking my life, and that I was going through rough times. Still just went home to your place, left me outdoors crying with only my longing for death waiting for me.
We hugged goodbye and then walked our different ways. Then we both looked back. And continued walking. That could have taken my life. FUCK.
historiebok 