I think honestly, if I lose you, I may not make it.
Evan. 18. Louisiana.
I have hope and I need it to not kill me.
I am the hugest fuckup on this fucking planet.
Hating yourself is not an excuse to be horrible to the only person who gives a shit about you. I want to be a happy person for you. I want to want to live, with you.
I’m at fault. I have gone over the edge. Sanity has been forsaken. I’ve done some fucking horrible ungodly shit. And now I know I can’t continue to do this to everyone.
I want to run away and leave everything and start something new and real. I want to feel good.