Friends Only

On the 18th, it will be a year since the Vanity Faire incident at Digital Anachronism studios... A year since I was laid low after never having suffered more than bruises from climbing trees. And not long until a year before I let Lane talk me into smoking that opium to relieve the pain in my legs. And then there's the anniversary of when I left home. The anniversary of the first time I gave up on smoking it and just starting injecting the shit into my veins. The anniversary of returning home in desperation and demanding money before holding a knife to my own father's throat... The OD. The being moved to Peter's hospital where Spectre (and my family) saved my life again.

And then I realise that that's where things get good again. There a year since I met Damon. A year since I realised I really could be myself again. A year since I got to go home. A year since Aislinn, though that one's still a ways away. So much pain. So much happiness.

After all of it, all I can really say about growing up is that it happens. Slowly but surely, it happens.