you know who you are.
you have a problem. and i promised myself that i wouldn't interfere until it starting affecting me.
it has. and i hate it. and i know you don't think it is a problem. i know you think it's fun and exciting.
i wish i could understand why you have this problem. i wish someone else could see that this problem exist and help me with it. i have lost respect for you on a level i never thought i could.
you see me look at you. you acknowledge my disapproval, but apparently i don't mean enough for you to do a goddamn thing about it.
What hurts is that, now, we are taking a hit. when you needed me, i was there. and now, when all i ask is that you think of me above that nasty problem, you can't. don't think i don't know why you rather not be near me, it's because then you can run off, collapse in that vaccum and indulge without me judging you.
worse of all, it's a demon i cannot fight on your behalf. and i cannot make you see it. it worries me so much, i don't want to see you fall down the path of what so many have.
my hope, my only true hope, is that i don't get that call, i don't get that information, that the problem has defeated you.
you have a problem. there, i said it.
