I just snapped at Mum a lot and it occured to me why I'm on edge. That rat bastard is leaving and the closer it comes to that day the more bent out of shape I become. It always happens this way when people leave. When the other two left I approached it with a fraction of the kind of dread with which I used to approach moving days. Except this one doesn't even want to go, which makes it far worse. Everyone's leaving and that is upsetting.

I don't feel left behind I just feel left.

ink :: graphite