I doubt if anyone will read this but to anyone who's actually concerned, here's a long over due update.

Last you heard from me I was lying in a gravel parking lot bleeding out. Well somehow after weeks of lying helpless on the now cold stones, I slowly stood, a large pool of blood vaguely outlined my silhouette upon the ground and had stained my clothes. I looked up at the now cold sun and just began walking. I had no idea where. With every step I felt the almost unbearable sting of the would and still more blood trickled out. Its amazing how much blood I lost, I don't know how I managed to survive with out just passing out to die. I should be bone dry by now, but it kept comming. I shouldn't be alive.

I made it to a main road. I don't even remember the walk to get there. I remember screeching tires and a rush of voices. I passed out...so that's where the last of my blood went, about time I thought.
I woke up in a hospital with my friends around me, and my wound bandaged. I've been in physical therapy for weeks now and am getting healthier every day. My friend all around me, encourage me to get better. I really matter...right?

I write this from my metaphoric hospital bed. Hoping that I'll be released very soon. I can now walk fine without getting dizzy, I can bend in every witch way, all flexibility is back. I'm back up to lifting normal weights. Its like everything's back to normal...all that's left is a large scar that runs along the left side of my torso.

Unlike every other bad memory...this one never blacked out of my mind. No, i see it just as vividly as ever. Like it just happened.