I will go home in a week, maybe less. Depends on how long it takes me to pack up my stuff and send it off. This is super-scary-fucking-out-of-my-mind scary.

I talked to the folks about D again today. He won't come over to my house, he says. Because of my folks. They don't hate him, but he thinks they do. And I don't blame him. Things were rocky when I left for New York. I need this to work.

He offered to come to the airport and I had to tell him no. My folks, despite the fact that they absolutely do not hold anything against him or hate him at all, still would like to pick me up alone. I feel like a dick.

I feel so strange lately. I need to go home. I need the stability, the ability to recover physically and emotionally. I need these people next to me, to hold my hand. My parents, Dexter, even Toby. I'm scared I'll get home and I'll be alone. More alone. That everyone will scatter me to the wind. I don't deserve anyone, but I want them more than anything, those four people.

I'm so scared.