I've got about twelve crescent moon marks dug into my arm. I've got a shaking hand and quivering fist. The tears are threatening to spill over, onto my face. I'm trying so hard to help. You complain about me doing nothing, but when I do something I get into trouble. You can't just take what you have and be thankful for it. You have to take it all for granted. You can't just be happy that I'm doing things to help you. You need to accept the fact that not everything is going to be done exactly how you want it. You can't just be thankful. Instead, you yell at me because I'm doing it wrong. You yell at me to do it differently.  And yet, after everything you've ever done to me, you still expect me to respect you. Tell me, how does that work? You get drunk a lot too. And you know what's bad about that? You don't even drink hard alcohol. You drink wine. So fuck you and your expectations, I'm not going to forget how much you've broken me. Don't expect me to go out of my way to help you. 

And now you want to fix things. You want to be, "back on track". But were we ever on the track? And do you really want to fix things or did someone else tell you that you should apologize? 

Peace for now. Stay alive. 

8/13/18