"Why is being happy so scary? Is it because being happy in the past has always come spiralling and careening down and destructing into a horrifying, burning, fireball of gas and electricity and hair and bones and skin and all that's left are the teeth, and somehow they're still able to bite me in all the tender aching parts of whatever burnt flesh I may still have barely hanging from my poor decimated heart."

Full circle, and back to the fear. I talked to the Lawyer about it. How I'm afraid that happiness won't last. My life seems to maybe mirror my manic tendencies. I have these incredible highs, where I couldn't be happier and everything is wonderful and beautiful and I'm so excited to be alive. But they are almost always followed by a huge crash, my depression takes over and everything seems bleak, empty, all that stuff that was so great ten minutes ago is now terrifying and sad and I would rather be hit by a car than live another ten minutes.

I like this boy. I'm so myself around him, I can be who I am and not worry about what he'll think. I just BE. DO. It's so freeing. I miss him when he's not here.

PS: He likes my hair.