12/23 III
You want to be happy. I understand. No one can be happy besides me. I am a burden.
12/23 IV
I need to stop thinking for a while. Just... wait. Tomorrow, you can drink, forget, eat all you can. I won't die, sadly. The odds of me dying just from drinking alcohol are very low. I would only have brain damage, and my stomach washed or whatever they do in those cases. But I want to dissolve into christmas. The dinner. The drinks. The fruit salad. I can dress up, and be fancy. For no one to see. Just like I do every year. I can pretend everything's normal. And in a sense it is. I am alone, depressed and hopeless. Seems about right. Classical holidays for Ella Blomfeld. A part of me wishes one day for that yo change. But we know that's not going to happen. I won't ever have a happy holidays with people I love, while being healthy. It's unrealistic.
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