17 March 2016
I want to do something to help him. I want to help, but I don’t know how. And hell, I need help. I can’t do this by myself because god knows I’m only barely holding myself together.
I miss England, although there’s not exactly anything there for me anyway there’s nothing for me here either. Or I thought there wouldn’t be. But now that I have something to stay here for, something to keep me going-- I’m going to lose it. Him. I’m going to lose him.
I’ve been trying to blame it on the fact that he’s stopped caring about what happens to him. That he won’t even try to stay alive. But that’s not it at all. He’s right, he’s never getting out of here alive. The chances of him avoiding the death penalty are so slim... God. I’m going to miss him.
He said once, when we first started talking, that there was a way he might be able to get out of it. But he’s not going to do it, I can tell. And I’m scared for him.
And I’m scared for what’s going to happen to me if he’s gone.
Maybe I should start pushing him away now. Before it gets worse for both of us.
- G.T.
