I know you didn't want to drink now. I'm sorry I wrote down that I didn't understand, I'm sorry I didn't stand up for you when "we" made you promise not to drink any more. There was a lot going on then I just had to get out of my system. In a sick way I'm glad I threw my journals away at 13.
I love you, grandma. I am so glad now you don't really realise you're going to die some day. And I'm pretty sure grandpa is off your mind pretty much the major part of the time.
I hate you, mum. I really do.
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