gina

hate

When I come home and see my mom yelling about how her life is terrible and how I cause it to be so terrible, I can't do anything but stay silent.

Terribly silent.

And then I go upstairs and cry, and cry, because I know all I am is a disappointment. Just a disappointment.
And it is true.

And every time someone yells at me, I stay silent. I can't talk, I can't argue, I just silently agree to whatever they say with a straight face, avoiding eye contact.

Jay was there to comfort me. He helped me get through this, even though he had his own problems.

Wow, did Jay have problems. He had bigger problems than me. But he never talked about them, he always wanted to talk about my problems, my day, my feelings. Never his problems, his day, or his feelings.

I hate you Jay. I hate you for never talking about how life was treating you like shit. I hate how you spent so much time helping me, but never spent a second for yourself. I hate how you left me like this. I hate how you never told me that you were gay, that you self harmed, that you drank, that you absolutely fucking hated your parents who I always thought were the nicest people but couldn't accept their depressed son, and I hate you for committing suicide.

God, I hate you.