I understand
Hell, no this isn't a post where I'm saying I understand why you did what you did. But more so of a "I understand why it's so much easier for me to type, than it is to talk" kind of thing. The thoughts? They just come. You knew that sister. You were the only other one person who truly understood. You were the same. Our anger, our mixed emotions and thoughts got in the way of our words, but this? Writing? It just comes. The pain, the hurt, the happiness when there is some.... it's just there. && honestly oddly enough, the constant sounds of the clicking make it somewhat easier to process. It's simple, if I don't like something I said, I simply erase it, and it's gone forever. My mind won't remember what the shit I said. But words? They're burned there, forever. Maybe that's why I realized just now that this? This is my escape. Things I can say to you and know that your story is still going. Because ya know, the internet's f...