It's getting close to the 14th. I'm not doing so great right now, no surprise. I'm more irritable, I'm really fucking tired, headaches every day, can't seem to laugh right. Always the same shit. M is so good with it, I noticed how sweet and patient he's been these last few days, he knows me better than me.
I turned 25 two weeks ago, fuck that whole mess. Dad's already left for London, probably won't see him again. Not too heart broken over it. Or maybe I am. I don't know anymore. I'm just sad.
I keep thinking about you, more than I usually do, no surprise, it's coming up in just two days. I wish I could visit your grave, maybe I could ask M? But it's over three hours away, and I'm sick of being a burden. I'm just as confused about all of it as I was when I was thirteen.