I STILL GET NIGHTMARES.

nothing takes me back more than the little things.

the slight reminders of him and the parts of him i resemble. my dumb fucking nose, the way i cross my legs oddly when im asleep like he did. my addictive personality, my easy conflicting of priorities. my constant nagging depression because of his death. it aches at my soul like a claw so deep it scrapes past my bones. my dumb patchy facial hair, my receding hairline like his.

all of it takes me back to to him. to that day he died. he never hid it, really. "opium is my only true love." his words, not mine. wasnt ever around, didnt teach me a damn thing but to assume everyone else will leave, too.

much like you, reader. you'll read this and maybe my heartfelt words will stick with you and linger for the hour but youll forget it. ill exist for a brief moment, before your life enters a state my presence has never affected it. just how it goes.

theyll likely all leave. im not perfect. or that amazing, either. im loud, eccentric, addictive like him, have a huge ridiculous savior complexity, im depressed, horrified of interactions, and plainly traumatized. ive hurt many people i said i love with interactions i still dont fully understand as to how it hurt them.

but it did. and my guilt will eat at me like termites, staring from the bottom of my stale chewy flesh.

its all just projection then. i guess.

i won't ever stop being this way i think. ill have to just manage it. make it tolerable for my friends, find a girl who likes my estranged self, and make myself happy with it.

until then, just thoughts of him.