Charlie was molested by his aunt, and was always having flashbacks and hallucinations and visions. I'm sorry.
Am I insane? Can I tell? I feel sad, lost. Even when found and felt. I have someone now, but I don't know about her. I don't know if I can give her what she needs, deserves and wants. People say I'm a "good catch". How.
I don't cry. I try so hard to not. I don't find it weak in a you are a wimp way. I find it weak in I failed way.
Ben doesn't believe in demons. Says they are representations of something, a metaphor. I think they're real. A spiritual battle is not just overcoming a part of your being. There is someone behind that battle. If there isn't, why is it a battle? Will is not a contest or a struggle. It is existence. If you want to control something, then you create it with limits. If you don't like the limits it used to have, to eliminate it and make a new thing, a new whole. No battle. Just gone and something else is made.
I'm lost. I think. Can't tell. I never know what found is like so I must.
Why did I invest so much in her. So hard to get back.
I wish I could say that the sickness, cold, was why. But I have these thoughts other times. Not always. Like I concede, mostly I am good. I help, talk, laugh. But I hurt, no, harm. So hard to give right emphasis. Hurt is the word, in the aspects, but think I mean me. Them.
Life feels wrong. I miss something. Sometimes I think I find it but I can't. A dream. Lost. Faces looking at me from atop the piano here at home. Some I know. But I don't.
So many friends finding one. That closeness, friend. I wish. I could dedicate myself to making it, but I can't find the spark again. Lost it. Was I not patient enough? Did I forgive her? Did I do it right, Dad? I can't hear you, though I try. I reach through the noise and reach. But I can't seem to find You.
I don't cry. Or dream. I try. So hard. I feel. I think?
I'm sorry. To you. Her. Them. I have failed you so many times, have left far to much within hidden and not said it and I can't go back now. I'll hurt you. I can't end it though. I can't.
Faith Hope and Love. I don't understand the first and have nothing on the last but Hope hurts. I have it, always and He won't let me die. They say it gets better. I think Observers have it better. Like I wrote in English. They sit, read, write. See. Quiet alone free. Sad. I am sad. I can't stop. I wish I knew how or could grow and leave the dark. Is the light absence of dark or the dark absence of light? Hell God or not?
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