Despite your lack of blowing over, I’m always keeping faith.

“I’m going to the doctor in about an hour. I packed a bag, and I’ll call you if they admit me.”
How many times have I heard those god forsaken words? 30? 40? Hundreds?!
I feel awful for feeling this way about you. Resenting you so much. But how can a child respect a mother who is never there? Who has abandoned her hundreds of times? She cannot; it is not possible.

There is so much more that I want to write. Things racing through my skull; bouncing around like loose Tetris pieces. But I’m afraid to put it all into words.
Reality is too harsh, so I’ll let these beautiful thoughts fester under rocks in the warped fantasyland I have created.

I keep staring at your screen name; hoping you’ll IM me.
I really should give that up.