A Friend

A friend will be over later. The only friend I’ve ever really mentioned this stuff to. I told her about the suicide attempt last year and she gave me a hug and saw me home when I got too drunk to function later that evening.

But she isn’t a friend really. She has never asked again and isn’t there to talk to.

So many times I’ve wanted to go to her and ask for help. I’ve even run away to her house when things were bad but the conversation never started.

Maybe she doesn’t want to know. Maybe she genuinely doesn’t care. It feels that way. She’s not the friend I need anyway. That friend doesn’t exist.

Someone to confide in. Someone to give me hugs. Someone who will help me, practically and emotionally. It’s asking too much and I don’t deserve it.
I will struggle on alone with this. And confide in you, anyone that happens upon this blog.