I don't even know how to talk to you about how much this hurt me, like little bleeding slivers of flesh carved from my own skin. Tiny scars that will mend over and hardly be seen, but the memory of it remains. Just...there's so much pain here. It's an everyday pain. Not...not like ordinary, but the pain of living every day, of trying and reaching and falling back down into the same thing you're trying to climb out of. Of being afraid to take any hand because at one point or another, they've all let go and you don't think you can survive the fall. Biting the hand that feeds you because it's the only one you CAN. God, I hate you. And I adore you. So much.