2nd december
Fuck I don't even know what to say.
Matt and his bitch girlfriend just sat down with me and started showing me pictures. Picture after picture of dead people, giving details and all this awful shit and topped it off with 'is this what you want to become?'
shit shit fuck. I don't want to die. I don't really have a good reason to live but I don't want to die. Matt was really fucking upset even though it's hard to tell sometimes and I want to see Jesse's kid, I wanna see Rosie's. I want to see them born, at least.
He showed me the paperwork from the hospital, the stuff that said my liver's fucked up. The stuff that said I'm going to die.
The fucking stupid part is that all this makes me want to do is drink.
I don't know what else to do. Right now I'm just in my flat alone. Rosie has her important work and her fiancee and her baby. I've wasted so much of her time being a pathetic bitch. I've wasted everyone's time and they wonder why I might just want to end it.
I haven't had a drink all day. Not since four yesterday, not since they cornered me. And it hurts. I don't know what to do. My flat's so empty and I could die here and anyone who'd noticed would be better off.
It's so quiet.
Rosie, any plans for your birthday yet?
Christmas and Boxing Day and New Year's, oh my. Fucking holidays.