So she leaves, and I go sit down. I fucking hate this. What am I supposed to do with this. I don’t want to go to the hospital. I hate it there. I would have gone if she asked, but she didn’t. Did she want me there?
It’s all unresolved. If I ask, then I get the answer I don’t want to hear, and I go there. If I leave it alone, then I’m uncaring, and feel like shit. And don’t know anything. Is this the point where I’m supposed to realize I don’t even love her?
I hate this feeling. I get a drink. I turn on the television. I let the feeling sink back and away. Burned away by the alcohol. I ignore the feeling, and as the hour goes on, it gets easier to ignore.

source https://tech.lgbt/@pangoriaF/112755433711384231