Hate myself.

Every day I love him more and more.

But, I don't think he loves me as much as I love him. How the fuck could he love me?




The other day, he said he wanted to get back into some drugs again, like he used to. He said he was really eager to do LSD again.

I told him a horror story about it. His reply was: "If you don't want me to do it, I won't do it. But I'm not going to stop doing all drugs because you don't want me to do them."

He said he didn't mean it in a horrible way, but instead he meant it in a way which means that he wants to enjoy his life more.

He told me he'd do anything for me.

I HAVE ONLY HAD 100 CALORIES TO LAST ME 3 DAYS.

I'M FUCKING STARVING SO THAT I CAN LOOK GOOD FOR HIM. WHY WON'T HE DO THIS ONE THING FOR ME?
By not putting himself in the way of harm.



Don't get me wrong, he's sweet and lovely, and I love him with all my heart. But, when he and his friends are talking about getting all these drugs in, it makes me feel sick. I don't know what I'd do without him.
We've agreed that we'll never leave each other. And, the thought of him dying, or getting hurt, makes me ridiculously upset. I want him to be with me forever.