It was too dark to write to write on her diary but she was too lazy to open the lamp beside her bed. And so she slept...

"You won't leave me, right?" I asked her. A slight quiver in my voice gave away the butterflies in my stomach. They were creatures of fire and their wings, made of thorns. They hurt. Just like her silent response, they hurt.

But I was hoping.

She stared at me and said nothing. I realized she didn't know the answer too.

I have no doubts. Why does she have them?

Are they my fault? Did I fail somewhere? Am I incompetent?

I feel inadequate sometimes. Useless even. I don't know what to do. Should I do more? Should I try everything?

I'm scared.

I need help.

I smiled and hugged her. "Everything will be okay."

This entry was posted on Monday, June 11, 2012. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0. You can leave a response.

Leave a Reply