Like I have for the past week, I fell asleep last night texting Marshall. It's a comforting thing, knowing that someone is there for you. I feel safe when I talk to him, which is an incredibly wonderful feeling, especially when you consider that I don't feel that way a lot. When Matt is threatening to come find me and make me do what he wants, and when my parents are screaming at me for getting lower grades than they wished, I can turn to Marshall. He gets it. He remembers the little things. He's just incredible like that. And I love him, but in the same way that I would love a kid that I babysit or my friend's dog. I love him, but without that feeling of being attatched to him. I can honestly say that I am terrified of falling in love again, and that I am NOT in love with Marshall because of that. I think he's in love with me though. And that scares me, because people who have been in love with me before have always expected something in return, something I'm not ready to give them. Maybe in two years when he gets back I'll be ready. I really don't know.

I don't know anything anymore.

500 days.

"It's time to grow up and do things on my own. It's time to be independent. It's time to get the help I really need. It's time to let go."

It's been just under 10 months since I last planned an attempt on my life, and tomorrow will have been 180 days since the last time I cut. I've started cognitive therapy, finally kicked denial in the head and got officially diagnosed with PTSD, and I'm on propranolol now. It helps a lot with the panic attacks. I'm doing well for what I've been through, if I do say so myself.

I'm beyond caring what goes on in a certain apartment in Atlanta, and won't really care if he forgets I exist. I'm the happiest I have ever been with Matt, and they have the right to be just as happy. After so many broken promises, one more doesn't even phase me. I hope that they are happy with the life they have created together, and I wish them the best of luck with the rest of their lives. It's kind of stupid that she blocked me on facebook, but that's a choice that they made and I'm ok with it, if it's what makes them happy.

What makes me happy is really more important to me in the end. I've got that, and nothing will take that deepest joy in the bottom of my soul away from me. The nightmares and the panic attacks and the flashbacks can't take it away. Stupid selfish people can't take it away. Stress from school can't take it away. This is my happiness, and it is here to stay.