My name is Annalise, and I’m an alcoholic. I lost someone. He was a student of mine. I’m a professor. I knew him before that, since he was a boy. His mother died and left him alone. I… tried to look after him. I didn’t do it because I was trying to be some saint. I did it out of guilt. I hurt him in ways that I couldn’t even admit in this room. I just couldn’t leave him alone, and I know why. I lost a baby in a car accident, but… it was much worse than that. I just couldn’t keep him out of my head. I would just worry if he did his homework, or if he had any friends. And on christmas, it would just make me sick worrying if he even had any presents. I told myself to stay away. What was broken in me was broken. No one could fix it. And then I did the opposite. I took him into my life, into my home. He needed someone to look after him, someone to love him, and I wanted to be that person. I wanted to protect him. I tried so hard. All I did was ruin him. If I had just left him alone, he would have been fine, but I just- I wanted to love him. I wanted to hold him tight. I wanted to keep him safe… this boy, my student, who was really just a stranger to me. That’s a lie. He wasn’t just a stranger. He was… he felt… he- he felt… he felt like my son.
okay but like, do you think Peter rocks when he does his homework or is listening to music or something. I gotta know. Is he a hand flapper? talk to me about my autistic buddy spidey. I gotta know my boys stims. (p.s. Im trans and my name is Peter and your blog is legit my favorite. Like geez, you're great. if I could send finger gun emojis on my laptop I would)