April 12th, 2006

(no subject)

David,

Sick of me yet? I'm ridiculously annoying. I don't get to see you much, I let you down like I do to everyone else. And I'm always ill - I'm sick of that. But I can't do much about it. And I'm shy, and I'm scared. I'm sorry, I don't wanna buggar this up. But I most probably will. I'm so stressed - college, work... not to mention my mum. I'm sitting by and watching her kill herself and I sometimes feel like it's destroying me.

If you put up with me, I promise I'll get better. I'm sorry...

Lisa.
♥ ♥ ♥