I was hardly sleeping, my studies were suffering and in all honesty I just felt like I was existing in this bubble of hopeless nothingness which I couldn’t see an end to. If Xavier and my mom didn’t need me, I wasn’t really sure why I’d even get out of bed in the mornings. Sometimes I got so angry at Lance that I punched myself just so he’d feel it wherever the fuck he was. Why couldn’t he have just stuck to the plan? What did he really think he was achieving by fucking up his entire life? Self sacrificing fuckwit.
