*permission slip of the wrist. 2004-02-11 8:48 p.m.*

so, how am i allowed to feel here, now.

can i be mad at you? because i am. it's funny because my immediate response was to tell you over and over again, don't worry about any of us, worry about getting well. because... yeah... eating yourself up now will never get you well.

but. but. but. i am angry. and i'm angry at me and feeling overly responsible.

was it that night that i told you i was horny as a motherfucker, and suddenly we were touching and wet and moaning? did that plunge you back here? did i really actually use you? do you feel used? is that why you got that sad? did i confuse your everything?

or am i giving myself too much credit?

i just know that i couldn't have made it if you'd succeeded. i would have totally completely lost it. you are not that important to me, honestly, but my ability to not ruin people's lives is.

*listening to: *
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