Sorry for whoever has been reading these diary posts, they've been incredibly depressing I bet. And it must be hard to read something so sad and cringy.
I just feel so guilty. Who am I to be feeling happy these days? Who am I to get over this pain and how DARE I enjoy any holidays whatsoever. I should be sobbing and screaming and throwing a fit. I should be physically grieving the loss of Monet and yet I've been dreading it, as if I've been avoiding it with distractions. Yes I don't want to feel like this but I feel like I very much so deserve it, like I should never heal from it.
I'm a weird person.
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Public diary-?
Short StoryJust a book/diary about someone's life and feelings. About Opinions, thoughts, questions and more!
