I just spent 10 minutes fighting with myself over should I go and read Suzanne’s journal. 10 minutes of holding my mouse arm frigid and having my fingers tighten and press down hard on the mouse has I fought against myself. And then I cried.
In a way, I am happy that I started crying, has it proves that I still have a heart and can still feel emotions. And yet the pain that is still in my heart, along with the loneliness and the sorrow. I still miss her so much. I don’t know what to do. Too scared to go on with my life, to scared to end my life.
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