Mood: 
Listening to: Eminem’s Still Don’t Give A Fuck
Mark texted me, today, again.
I had mentioned to him that Mum was making some food and bought a cobbler for him and his Dad to enjoy while his Mother has been admitted to the hospital. She’s really not doing well and I’m scared for her. He wasn’t in a good way either. He needed to see me. I told him that I didn’t want to go to his house because I didn’t trust myself alone with him, so he compromised and said to meet at an all-night diner. After much deliberation, I decided to get my apology in person for the first time ever. I brought along the cobbler too. He vented about his situation and told me how he regrets how he handled our situation. Eventually, I followed him home. I have loved this man for ten years and finally got some sincerity. It’s like I can be myself now and say what I want. We basically reconciled but I’m still extremely hesitant. The sex between Mark and I had been really great back in July and last night was good too. Really good because there was no filter. Being with Sam brought me out of my shell, helped me remember who I am, and I’m not going to let my insecurities from Mark affect how I am in front of him anymore. It felt really good getting what I wanted from him after needing it for so long.
Anyway, after all that at Mark’s house, I go to leave and my fucking car wouldn’t start. He tried to hook it up to some jumper cables, but that didn’t seem to be the issue. While waiting for AAA, I deduced from ChatGPT that it might be the starter. The technician confirmed that when he got there and did his little thing on the car so I towed it to my mechanic who is thankfully on that side of town. Mark gave me a ride home. It was after 4am when I crashed in bed. Who knows if Mark will feel this way in six months? In two months?
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