A/N: People, this is a slash fic, and the lover is male. If you don't get it after this chapter, you will be told in the next one. Now that that is out of the way, thank you for your reviews so far. They are what keep me going. Oh, as always, I own nothing. If so, Eric Szmanda would be massaging my feet.
4/11/05
I discovered a new thing about myself because of the cutting; I am an excellent actor. Nobody even notices what I have been doing to myself. They are just so wrapped up in their cases and everything else around them. They don't realize that I get hammered every night after work, go home and cut, clean up, and sleep for a few hours before the nightmares begin.
No hangovers, no side effects of drinking. I even take cabs to and from wherever I get hammered at so no one can find out and so I don't hurt someone. The closest I have come to being caught was when Hodges asked me where some of his beakers went. All that I could say was "Haven't seen them. Maybe the beaker monster took them." I just love confusing him.
My love life has completely gone to shit after Warrick broke up with me. I can't even get a guy's number when I go clubbing. On the topic of Warrick, he won't even give me a sideways look. He has even started drinking the crap that the lab calls coffee instead of the good stuff that I brew. I guess that means that he wants nothing to do with me. Oh well, all the more reason for me not to change my behavior.
