Fault

It's sort of dividing between people I don't know and people I wish I didn't know.

And I hate when people use threats, because a threat to me isn't motivation. It's a contest. If you threaten me with something, it's like a switch in my mind goes off and tells me to stand my ground just to see if they have the balls to go through with it.

I guess it's only with him, though, because in any other situation, I'm not a confrontational person. Fight or flight and all that; I've always been one to fly.

But that's probably because I know he's filled with shit and doesn't have the balls to do anything.

Maybe I should just hole myself up in my room and lock the door and never open it and then maybe he'll just leave me the fuck alone and stop yelling and maybe I won't have to have panic attacks because a man is yelling at me, and I'll stop being upset when I get left behind because maybe then I won't want to go in the first place.

I guess it's my fault for caring, you know.