I do not own the original Doctor Wilson, Fox owns him. This is a Wilson I'm just basing off of there's. For the real one watch House M.D. on fox!

March 6th, 2007

Dear Diary,
Well it's about time I started a new diary. I know it's been awhile, been about a year. As I read back over my old diary, I realize that nothing has changed. I still work at the same hospital, doing the same job, for the same salary. The only thing I can think of that has change is a new divorce, and a new place to live.

BUT one thing that hasn't changed is House, and our so called friendship. So what can I say about Ol' House? He... Well... He's worse. Some days I don't think I can handle him. I think I lost a friend, the man I used to call my friend is so full of bitterness, depression, anger, and is lost. But then they're the days that I see my old friend. I think that's all I'm hanging on by. If it weren't for all those times, those glances of the House I once knew, I wouldn't be here.

His drug addiction has gotten worse. I feel as if I'm fighting against his addiction to get to him. Like I have to fight his high to reach him. He is always looking for the next high. The next BIGGER high. I mean you should see him when those pills of his are taken away from him. He's a monster! He goes mad! And he fights, oh boy does he fight! He somehow always finds away to get them back. I mean he fakes cancer to get a better high! It's out of control!

I mean how can I be jealous of pills!? But I am? I know this all sounds mad to you. Let me clarify. I can't help thinking if he had a choice between me and the pills, which one would he chose? If I was taken away from him, would he fight for me as hard as he fights for those fking pills!!!

He hides behind those pills. He hides from the pain of his life. Not just physically but mentally… pain. He hides to keep from breaking even more. He is already broken. He is like a child who is afraid to clean a cut. The kid is afraid of the pain, so he takes pain relievers, without actually dealing with the problem. He puts a band aid on to cover the wound, to hide it. But that isn't enough, soon that wound is going to get worse and spread, and the child will die… slowly.

That's why I stay here. Even though I feel as if I'm dragging dead weight around. I won't allow him to destroy himself, someone else, or even drag me down with him. I know deep in my heart my friend isn't totally dead. He needs help. What he doesn't need is another friend leaving him.

Well not bad for the first diary entry. I'm going to get some sleep. Good night.

Love always,
James