Writer is exile, day 3

I’m beginning to realize I can’t keep people here, in my hell. They want out. I can’t bully their existence, it’s so funny, how I help but yet how I make it all about me. I’m beginning to realize, I never loved anybody, I just wanted it, I just wanted the fantasy, and I clawed and cursed, and pissed off and went to jail and tried to murder because I want those to stick to the script I have in my head. But this is life. I can’t control other souls. And no matter how I manipulate, I can’t control the wind.

Thomas wants to leave. I should let him leave. Charles wanted to leave. I punished him. It’s like I grew up to be the abandoned child with issues. Let them go. I need to let them go. They were weak to begin with. I’m going to let him go.