A/N: Trigger warnings for depression, self harm, suicide, and others I'm likely missing or do not have names for. Possibly limes as well. Takes place a few years post-anime.
Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater. This is only for fun.
I tell them I don't know exactly how many people Lady Medusa made me kill. It's a lie. I don't like lying to people. Especially not Maka and her friends, but I have to. It would hurt them if they knew I remembered all of them. There were thousands. Most of them didn't deserve it. A few of them might have, but it was still bad.
I try to tell Maka. She helps. But I don't tell her everything. I might someday, but not all at once. Some things are better off not known. I don't know if I could deal with Maka knowing everything. I don't know if I can deal with knowing everything I've done.
I'm better, now, though. I know I am. I still don't know how to deal with some things but I've learned how to deal with others. I'm okay as long as I'm with Maka or her friends. I don't think so much around them. I even smile sometimes. But at night it all comes back. The horrible things I've done. I never understood, before, why. But Maka helped me to understand. Lady Medusa was making me go insane on purpose. It almost worked. Sometimes I feel like it did work.
Ragnarok doesn't tease me as much. I don't know why. It's nice, though, to have a conversation sometimes. Maka helps Ragnarok too. Things are better for us. Except at night. I still go to Mr. Corner. Sometimes I cry for hours. I make sure nobody can hear me though because they need sleep and I'm okay otherwise. Mr. Pillow helps with that. Sometimes Maka hears anyway and comes to sit with me until I feel better. Sometimes even Soul comes in too and that's okay. I can deal with Soul. Ragnarok likes him. Sometimes I think maybe Ragnarok asks them to come help when I can't focus on anything.
I'm better at sorting out how I feel about things now. I still don't know a lot about love. It's scary. I've read lots of books. They don't really help. I know Lady Medusa didn't love me. I know that friends can love you. I think, hope, Maka does. But there's so many kinds of love. I don't know how to deal with romantic love. I don't know if I will ever be able to. But I think one day I might be able to try.
Maka said I should try writing things down here. Not like poetry. Just somewhere to put things. It helps, I think. I'm not sure why. Writing it down doesn't seem like it should do anything but I still feel better. Maka said it was so I can process things. I don't know what that means but I trust her. Thank you for listening to me, Mr. Journal.