Been having bad dreams for the past few months. Hard to tell if it is a side effect from anti-depressants or if it a normal casualty of grief that happens to most people who have lost someone. Doesn't matter the cause, they difficult to bare. The mornings are hard enough without having to find your way out of being disturbed by your night of sleep. I am usually appalled by the morning any ways.
Will is almost always there and he is always back from the dead and always right back on Vicodin. That is the worst part because for a few moments, I believe I have him back and then always realize that he isn't really back. It will end up just like it did in reality. Last night's was hard. I have been missing him all day. It bothers me that he took the liberty to decide something that would change everyone else's lives as well has erasing his own. Can't stay mad at him for very long.
Today, I was moping my way to school and when I got there, a friend asked me. "Look's like you just lost your best friend." I laughed. Not because it's funny, but because rarely do things really apply. Like when someone calls me a bastard. I laugh. It's funny because it's true.
Tell me what other things are true that people say to you.