How I Met Jane

Holy Sh*t

This still exists.

Want to know something?

I’m still the same.

Within the last post, I’ve done things that I can’t express all at once. Karma came back, and why, it wasn’t the best meeting. Cycles of depression, and worried thoughts, and the never-ending fear of the treacherous, “What If’s?”

I wouldn’t change it for the world.

I wouldn’t be here typing if it wasn’t for those events.

I wouldn’t be here lying to you if I said I wasn’t afraid of the next relapse.

But I am here.

So, let’s meet Jane again.

She can control her whiskey, but now she steals beer out of bars.

 

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