Personal Journal Entry
April 28
Her overdose ruined everything. I tolerated the fact that I had to fix the hair. I knew I’d have time. I had no idea that she’d be dead even before the first rinse. Thankfully, we were in her apartment, so I didn’t have to try to transport her empty-headed blonde dead weight around.
I made her look pretty, but it just didn’t work for me. The need in me is nearly overwhelming now. It’s agonizing to constantly battle this clawing need. I don’t know how much longer I can keep it at bay. I keep telling her these cheap, tawdry weak substitutes aren’t going to work. She says they have to be enough because she’s in love.
In love in love in love.
As if she knows what love is. “Oh, I love her. Oh, she’s so precious to me. She is too precious to me.” Stupid cow.
