You don't listen. You never listen. I wanted you to listen but you didn't. I'm sorry I slapped you. I'm sorry I shouted at you. I'm sorry I let Bert in. I'm sorry I wanted to know what was going on. I'm sorry I'm even alive.

I don't hate you. I can't hate you. I love you so much, you know that. I need you. I told you, Gerard, you're the only thing that's keeping me alive. What do I do now? I just made it worse, didn't I? I make everything worse. Why are you still with me?

Did you sleep in our bed last night? Or did you sleep on the couch again? Sleeping in the bath is more uncomfortable than it sounds, but I was too scared to do anything else.

But it's okay. You're out now. And I can do what I've been doing for the past two days. I can lie too, Gerard. I can do things behind your back, too. It doesn't matter, because you don't care. Not anymore. You're just concerned with getting drunk and high.

One day you're gonna come home...and I won't be there. I'll be in the hospital. Or maybe the morgue.

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