Flower Fortune- Sweetbriar: Poetry and fragrance.

When you are alone at three in the morning and you drink, you want people who are not around. Last night, I went to Edward's for the first time in weeks. He let me in and somehow made me soup. I wish you would come by more often, he said, and he looked terrible. You are not my family, I answered. I was drunk and it was a horrible thing to say, so I cried. He can carry me and for a second I was scared he was angry. But only sad so I slept in his bed that night. He kept the light on and read to me. Something about history and how we don't understand that history really happened to people. We get fascinated by the horrible things that went on, but forget about the people involved. Or something like that.

Today, Oliver asked me, When we die can we still see our favorite things? I said, not only can we see them, but we are a part of them, all of them, and they become greater than we even imagined. But I don't believe myself anymore.

My mother called two days ago. She is in another drug facility. I learned that she started doing coke. She asked me for money and for food. I found myself thinking, When will you die?

I have become a horrible person.
And I haven't written in weeks.