[entry six; november 2013]
love, do you still remember? you threw a glass bottle towards me in frustration, i blocked my face with my arms and it bled badly. tons of blood were dripping down my arms and junhoe, you didn't even care to look.
i went to the hospital because i felt pain everytime i moved my arms, turns out a piece of glass stayed in there. i refused getting operated, jun-ah.
i held it in for 4 months, the doctor advised me not to do anything that involved moving my arm but i did, jun-ah. remember you inviting your 6 friends over,
and throwing a party? you acted like i didn't exist that day. all i did was clean, clean and clean. i witnessed with my eyes, they offered you something bad. yes, love, i saw.
they told you to try it, as you're already addicted to alcohol. they persuaded you that drugs weren't as much of a difference, that you would often forget about the real world and enjoy yourself in your own fantasy.
i was scared, jun-ah. i really hoped you'd refuse, which you did. you said it was too much and you couldn't handle it.
i don't care anymore, jun-ah. i've operated my arms twice now. you don't need to know why though.
as long as you're fine; i'm fine.
