But at least Em's happy. She's been off-kilter since Elliott left, can't say I really blame her, the two of us are the only stability the poor thing's had since things went south. I mean, she copes, she's just moodier than usual and tries to distract herself with more and more awkward questions - she's on a kick about asking about sex, specifically how two men work together since fuck knows she's gotten plenty of interaction with gay men. I wasn't even aware she knew the mechanics of straight sex, and I'm not at all fucking sure I should be telling her any of this-but I have a suspicion she's been sneaking around on the internet, so I'd rather she not try to google it or something.
In any event, being here and being able to pester Benjamin again has put her in pretty good spirits again. And being in extended good company with Derek and TMV (and Benjamin, for that matter), has put me in enough of a mindset to put this up.
The fact is, I've been hiding something from you lot. Nothing big or serious, just. I don't like talking about shit, you lot should fucking know that by now. But maybe if I get this out there, someone'll be able to shed some light on it.
It's really two things. Firstly, ever since... ever since we left Austin, slendershit's been everywhere. I don't just mean like he shows up once or twice a night. I mean he'll follow us around for hours. Just starin, never makes a fucking move. I think he's singing to Elliott, I've heard him grumbling about the music, but for me, it's a lot of talk.
Well, talk's the wrong fuckin word. Like everyone else who's talked to him can tell you, it's more he's there, and you get these thoughts in your head that ain't yours and you don't know how they fucking got there, but you know they're what he wants you to know.
Ain't no big surprise, considering I'm basically a double renegade proxy, but he just wants me back. Says I'm his, says I'll regret it if I keep fighting.
I spit in his nonexistent face and close the fucking curtains. He's never getting me again.
But that brings us to part two of my little dilemma. Most of you have probably figured out I'm drinking again. Don't worry, I keep it well away from Emily-if I can't reasonably take care of her and keep her from seeing me drinking, I just don't. Needless to say I haven't really been able to get much in since Elliott left.
What's strange is that I've found that I have to drink twice as much to get to the same level. I'm not exaggerating, nor am I failing to account for a building tolerance. The last time I'd drank, that one day right before I went to the forest, it took me slightly less than the amount I was used to from before Star got me to quit.
The first time I drank again after Austin, it took almost double. And my tolerance is growing at a freakish level.
And then there's the matter of something Doc told me when I asked her about the booze thing. Apparently, I should've already bled the fuck out by the time she got to me when I tried to off myself like a dumbass.
Now, the drinking could be a fluke-I'm in far better shape now than I was, after all, and fuck knows I'm a stubborn damn bitch.
But it's enough to make a girl worry all the same.