
Entry 8 - Decisions:
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Waylon visited me yesterday and I wish he didn't. I always love seeing him but he chose one of the worst times. When he walked in, he saw the four empty bottles on the end of my desk and immediately started making accusations. He claimed I was an alcoholic and it only got worse from there.
I didn't want to tell him. He didn't have to know. I didn't want him to deal with my problems, but he insisted. I told him everything. About the deal, I made with Tray, about how I finally decided to abandon my ideals as a vigilante and how I was to retire my lance.
During these moons, I've noticed that any time I try to do something good for the people, I fail. I can't do anything right no matter how hard I try. No one ever said life was fair, but it almost feels like the twelve is out to get me. What's the point in even trying?
Waylon didn't like anything I had to say, talking turned to yelling and then, in my anger, I thought it would be a wonderful idea to slap him across the face. I was furious, he kept calling me a coward. I regret doing that so much, my arm still hurts from when he pulled me up from my wrist.
He kept trying to get to me, to tell me to not give up and to just keep going with what I was doing. He told me that all I have done was make him happy and hopeful. He loved how I "made it through hell and back" and still manage to be a positive influence. What I don't think he understands is that everyone reaches a breaking point and I've reached mine. I can't keep going, I try and I try but I just can't anymore. I'm done trying to be the "hero". However, I can't "retire". Even through all of this shit, I can't bring myself to fully retire. I have a Free Company who relies on me now, and a smuggling deal I have to finish.
I've accepted what I must do. There is no point in continuing to hold this grudge against Tray. If anything, he's actually helped me face the realities. It was rough getting to this point, but no one said it would be easy.
Life just isn't fair.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Waylon visited me yesterday and I wish he didn't. I always love seeing him but he chose one of the worst times. When he walked in, he saw the four empty bottles on the end of my desk and immediately started making accusations. He claimed I was an alcoholic and it only got worse from there.
I didn't want to tell him. He didn't have to know. I didn't want him to deal with my problems, but he insisted. I told him everything. About the deal, I made with Tray, about how I finally decided to abandon my ideals as a vigilante and how I was to retire my lance.
During these moons, I've noticed that any time I try to do something good for the people, I fail. I can't do anything right no matter how hard I try. No one ever said life was fair, but it almost feels like the twelve is out to get me. What's the point in even trying?
Waylon didn't like anything I had to say, talking turned to yelling and then, in my anger, I thought it would be a wonderful idea to slap him across the face. I was furious, he kept calling me a coward. I regret doing that so much, my arm still hurts from when he pulled me up from my wrist.
He kept trying to get to me, to tell me to not give up and to just keep going with what I was doing. He told me that all I have done was make him happy and hopeful. He loved how I "made it through hell and back" and still manage to be a positive influence. What I don't think he understands is that everyone reaches a breaking point and I've reached mine. I can't keep going, I try and I try but I just can't anymore. I'm done trying to be the "hero". However, I can't "retire". Even through all of this shit, I can't bring myself to fully retire. I have a Free Company who relies on me now, and a smuggling deal I have to finish.
I've accepted what I must do. There is no point in continuing to hold this grudge against Tray. If anything, he's actually helped me face the realities. It was rough getting to this point, but no one said it would be easy.
Life just isn't fair.