I've been in rehab for almost six months.
I finally feel like I can stand on my own two feet again.
Now I have just a few more weeks until I get to go home.
I'm using the time to make sure things are all set up for me once I leave this place.
Carlisle helped me with finding a job in his company.
Mom said I can live with them if things don't work out with Bella until I get back on my feet.
I'm thankful for them both.
They don't make me feel like I'm accepting a handout, and I know I wouldn't have made it this far without their support.
My therapist here is helping me find someone close to home that I'm comfortable with that I can start seeing on a regular basis, someone who, if Bella and I try to get back together, can help us work through our issues together.
We both know I'm not ready to end therapy completely yet, and I may never be.
It's taken me a while, but I'm okay with that.
I'm okay with asking for help when I need it.
I'm okay because I know I'm finally becoming the man Bella always deserved, the mad she had always hoped I'd be.
Even if she wants nothing to do with me, at least I can say that I tried.
I still haven't been able to get ahold of Bella.
I've asked my parents about it, but they say she's been busy and is hard to get in touch with sometimes.
They also keep reminding me that no matter what happens with Bella, that I need to focus on doing what's best for me.
I know they are just trying to keep me grounded, but sometimes the way they talk about Bella is odd, as if they're hiding something from me.
Then again, it could all just be me and my nerves about going home kicking in.
Either way, nothing could be worse than what I've already been through.
