On Friday, I got really drunk at Richard’s. I threw up a lot, it was so fun.
But something happened that made my heart heavy. I sat my drunk ass down in the snow and was throwing up, so Jack came outside. He sat next to me and sort of held me (?) while I threw up. He was also really drunk. Suddenly we were both pouring our hearts out to each other.
He told me that he [redacted]. He also told me that he [redacted]. I’m so sad for him. Why can’t he be different than me? No one should feel this. I can’t stop thinking about it.
Something that sucks is when you finally decide that you need help but you can’t get it. If I told an adult, no one would care. Even if they saw the signs, who cares, teenage phase.