January 22nd

Posted: January 22, 2013 in Uncategorized

Dear journal,

I’m told that it’s called a hangover, it’s common and I shouldn’t worry about it too much. I’m glad it’s over, and still don’t understand the logic on why people would drink in the first place if that is their likely reward.

Andrew thinks I’m mad at him for the hangover. Maybe I am a little, although I know it’s not really his fault. There was something comfortable yet terrifying in waking up on the couch with him. For a minute I couldn’t remember what happened, and my brain automatically assumed it was something horrible. That isn’t normal, is it? I thought we’d been attacked or I’d been drugged, because my head hurt and my stomach felt like it was trying to escape.

I’m not mad at him, but I do question why we did what we did. I also question what happened the night before last, as I cannot remember it all. There seem to be blank spots in my memory, and I don’t like that at all. I am used to being able to have total recall, and a gap is not my idea of fun. Maybe I am mad at him. Maybe that’s what this feeling is. It’s something more though – I don’t know if I trust him.

It’s so strange how quickly I trusted him, and now I’ve come to doubt that. Maybe it would be better if he found his own place. That would slow things completely down and give me time to think all of this over. I just don’t know how to tell him that, without him thinking I’m over reacting.

Am I over reacting? I guess it doesn’t matter, considering it is my house and my life and if I am uncomfortable then he needs to respect that.

When did I become such a grown up?

I escaped upstairs after dinner. He doesn’t come up unless invited, which is a bonus right now when I need space to think things through. I can hear him downstairs; I think he might be watching The Council channel, but it’s not loud enough for me to tell. He knows I’m upset, and even tried to get me to tell him what was wrong. I didn’t want to just blurt it out. I need to sleep on it, I think.

But another night of sleeping on it means another night he is used to being here, and I don’t know if that is what I want. Why isn’t this easy? Why did I have to find out he has nowhere else that is safe to go? I just feel like if I ask him to leave, he’ll just go back to the woods, and I know he survived out in No Man’s Land on his own for a long time, but what if he lets his guard down because he’s in the barricade and then there is a breach? I can’t let the zombies get to him like they got to Mother and Rick. This time it would be all my fault, and I would blame myself even more than I do for Mother’s death.

He’s a big boy and he can take care of himself. I don’t need him here to take care of me and he’s not my responsibility. But I like having him here. I like curling up in his arms. I don’t need him, but I do want him, and I don’t want any harm to come to him.

There’s a creak from downstairs, like someone is on the bottom step. I better go see what is going on.



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s