All my love to my lovely group of bets and prereaders who make this stuff less of an eyesore. Any errors are mine cause I have OCD tendencies.

Jasper still isn't mine, if he was I'd have a better laptop to write on.


Oct 28-

My father found me today. I was walking back up from the beach when he confronted me in front of my room. He wants me to come back to work, go back to school. He acts as if the past two weeks never happened, as if she never existed. The conversation got loud, prompting more than a few doors to open with angry glares. I let him in, but told him, in no uncertain terms, I can't be that person right now; I need time to figure shit out. He stormed out, threatening to cut me off without a cent, but the point's moot. The first installment of the trust fund my grandfather gave me released when Maria and I were married. I have enough to get by on for now. I'll worry about the rest when I have to.

I called my mom, letting her know I'm alive. I resisted her pleas to come home, using the twins as my excuse. I don't want them to see me like this. I know I'm broken; I don't know if I deserve to be fixed. Existing is easier when I don't have to deal with my family's false support. Then again, they saw the truth long before it smacked me in the face.


Hmm so our Jasper is a trust fund baby. Makes you want to question Maria's motives a bit more.