Mother got drunk again, got into a fight and just now stormed out the door without her keys, phone, or purse.
Logical thinking says I should be worried and that I should go after her, but for some reason, I kind of just don’t care.
I guess it finally reached that point where I can’t deal with it anymore.
Maybe it’s some kind of self preservation instinct; not allowing me to care so I don’t end up getting pulled down with her to rock bottom.
What kind of man wakes up to the sound of his drunk girlfriend falling out of bed and crashing into the bed side table, and then just leaves her there; not even bothering to check to see if she’s conscious?
I’m putting it all out there. I know I can be an insufferable prick. I know I can be a huge asshole. I know I can be a pathetic little bitch. Fuck; I know I’m these things a good majority of the time.
You know what; nevermind. I don’t even know where I was going with this anymore. Everyone is right about me.