I keep my head on tight...

So what would you do, if you saw someone decline, saw someone die... and started to realize that you're heading down the same path? It doesn't matter if it takes one year or fifty, The result is the same.

There's a box, sitting on my desk. It's been there for years. Before I had this desk, it was on the one before it. Inside, there are old, dried rose petals. It's a memory of my first true love... obviously not true. It reminds me that no matter where I go or what I do, I'll be by myself. As much as I try, I'll always be misinterpreted, taken advantage of or used and ignored. Looking at it frustrates me, but I've never moved it. I guess it's like keeping a photo of a dead loved one on your table.

I'm inundated with crazy associations like this, But I don't want to feel this way anymore. I don't want to feel like I'm always having something ripped out of me. It's all I can think about. My life has been taken from me by other people: My father, people I've called my friends and people I've given my heart to.

Every day since then, I'm beginning to understand more and more why she did what she had to.