Surely, I deserve this. My tears are bittersweet irony; they stain my pillow as a mocking reminder of naïvety. This is what I get for believing that he could do no wrong. This is what I get for committing to a person and believing that I could turn his life around.   For dragging him through rehab twice in vain. For walking into his room on July 5th one year ago to find his unconscious body on the floor. For crying to the god that I do not believe in to save the only thing on this ******* miserable world that I love. To not let me lose him again. This is what I get for calling 911, for trying to hold back the tears so they could understand that my boyfriend overdosed on ****** in his bedroom. For waiting all night in the hospital only to be ignored by him for not letting him succeed on his suicide attempt. This is what I get for believing him each time he came back to me. For being the only security in his life.
These past years I have lost a lot. I have watched all of the closest friends drift away. And I held onto Landon with such consuming fear that I might lose all sense of familiarity. But it is so painful to love something that does not want to feel.
I fear I have lost everything in my life. There is no meaning in this life. I have lost mine.