the truth is that it's hard for me to hear about how hard the life growing in your belly is slowing you down when this disease in my veins is taking away my leg right before my eyes and there is not one thing i can do about it. the truth is i can't sleep at night because it feels like there are a hundred firecrackers going of right under my feet and it hurts more than anything i have ever known and yet i am also relieved because more of the time i can't feel my foot at all and that is a terrifying feeling.
i am full of terror.
i can hardly breath. or listen. or give a shit about charlie sheen or traffic jams or your hangover.
this is too much. i have had enough.
this is too much.
and i am not okay. and i know you need me to lie to you and say i am because that is what i always say. and all that other stuff all those other worse days they just keep getting better and sometimes i wonder if maybe i was meant to die on that day and if maybe this is how fate evens the score.
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