1:29 a.m.

Good-byes are for quitters. Heh but I'm still trying to figure out if im one or not.

Explination:

Fear: you not needing me

reality: you didn't

lie: I didn't need you

truth: I did

event: you went out with him while thinking I was occupied

regret: I sat at home alone with my wrists

solution: yeah I should apologize but for what? For being hurt.

I suppose this story ended the day he walked out. I guess it started the day he died. its sad this mess, all blended into one giant heap of regret. One wide river of tears to flood the future. But this diary is the past and I didn't keep up with my promise I had made to myself. So along it goes, with the rest of the happiness, depression, him, her, them. All just a memory I'd like to avoid. so good-bye, i hate to call this the end because I'm very far from it.