When Dreams Don't Come True

I had a new years revalation.

That's kind of like making a resolution.

Well, it isn't really. A revalation is a lot more final than a resolution. Who keeps their resolutions anyway?

I think, all this time, when I lived in that closet, when I lived on Marcus's couch, when I moved back home, when I lived with my grandparents, when I was in the hospital and when I was in the other hospital, all along, I think I thought if I just stuck it out long enough, Daniel would come back and "save" me. From what, I guess maybe from me.

My grandfather died tonight.

And Daniel is not coming back, nor is he going to ask me to come to New York with him. I'll probably never see him again. I haven't talked to him in ages. He blocks me on IM now. He never answers my calls. He probably feels like all the years he lived with me I just sucked him dry of everything, and he's sick of it and is glad to be free of me.

He is not going to swoop down and pluck me out of this disaster I am trying to live in and move me into his loft in NYC where we will live happily ever after.

I can never go back to my parents house.

I can never go back to my grandparents house. They aren't there anymore.

I don't have anywhere to live. I have no money and the money I don't even have yet is already owed to the Great City of Camden, for I must pay for the crime of lying to get prescription drugs without said prescription, for I clearly haven't paid enough.

I'm never going to be friends with Daniel again. I've completely destroyed that relationship, whatever it was.

I'm never going to be without pain.

I'm never going to be able to walk.

And I'm never going to be able to take an honest look at my life and say a single good thing about it.

Happy Fucking New Year.