Yes. It does hurt. And I don't want to feel guilty for letting it. But I do.

Yes. I do know what I want. And all my life I've been talked down to, told what I should want and what I shouldn't, what I do and what I don't. And everytime someone tells me what I want or what I need, they're wrong. No one listens. Parents, friends, therapists... no one listens, really listens, because they don't want to hear the truth. Maybe they've heard it all before.

I go back to December and see it all over again and wonder whether I should have gone straight instead of turning. Almost nine months ago, but it's the clearest thing in my memory, moreso than yesterday. What would I have missed? All those times when I curled my toes over the precipice, what made me turn back? When no one cared until the very last moment, what held me until that moment?

It feels like I'm being choked. It's what I get for wanting to know, right? Talk about people not listening, when it was mostly me. I did the dishes because I clean when I'm angry and the last pan cut my finger. I bled. I wonder what that means.