I can't think about anything anymore. Here I am faced with this decision-finally go out and make it on my own, or go back to an awful situation, lose my kid and get the bloody hell beat out of me. Neither of which is particularly appealing to me. But I don't care. Or rather, I do care, but it doesn't matter. It's like my life is all of a sudden composed of these layers. At the top layer is him. Only him. The only thing that matters. This decision hanging over my head is on the second layer. Everything else is progressively lower. But everything from level two on down doesn't matter, almost like I don't care about it. Or that it's a moot point whether or not I care about it because as long as he loves me everything else will work itself out. I even believe that. Oh, I love him. DAMN, I love him. I'm so glad there's no cure for this disease-I plan to be afflicted forever.
Laters