I’ve snapped.

You ever have those moments when you’re completely flying high and everything feels wonderful and nothing hurts, but then you blink once, maybe twice, and you realize how utterly alone you are? Same thing happened to me. Only, I realized how much I hate my life. And the people in it. After my mom went apeshit on me, for something that was completely and utterly my fault, I decided to sit by the pond. While I was crying, I texted my two very best friends. And it wasn’t good enough. It didn’t make me feel better. Then I started thinking about a razor at home. And I know it’s exact location. And then I smiled. Fucking grinned. Just thinking about cutting myself made me feel ten times better. And my two best friends weren’t enough. What kind of person does that make me?

I try not to talk about my problems to my friends because I don’t feel like they matter. My problems, not my friends. I have no problem listening to them rant and vent, and I don’t have a problem offering advice every once in a while. But, when it comes to talking about what’s wrong with me, I can’t say anything. I don’t know if it’s because I don’t want to, or if it’s because I just can never find the right words to truly express how I’m feeling, but nothing comes out. As cliche as this sounds, whenever someone asks me how am I doing, I automatically say “I’m fine.” whether I am or not. There really isn’t anyone that I feel comfortable with telling all my problems to. I don’t know if that’s my fault or not. It might be. I have this thing about letting people in. I almost never do. Is that a good thing or a bad thing?

yeah.

I think I’m finally going to let this go. Partly because I don’t think we’re going to work out. Partly because I don’t think you like me that much. Partly because I’m too shy to do anything and you don’t understand that. Partly because I saw you flirting with her. Am I insane for thinking that there was some sort of code when it came to ‘talking’ to someone? Especially if it looked promising? I know what we ‘had’ wasn’t promising at all, but at least it appeared that way from the outside looking in. Maybe my feelings are just hurt. Maybe not. You never bothered to come up to see me. You didn’t bother to buy me a crush can. You didn’t bother to wear yellow. You don’t bother to try and call me. But, this isn’t all your fault. I don’t bother to come down to see you. I avoid you when you say ‘hi’ to me in the hallways. This is going to sound terribly pathetic, but I’m not that pretty. Guys aren’t scrambling over themselves to date me. Which is probably why I bothered to entertain this charade for so long. We don’t fit. We don’t have the same ideals. Your ex-girlfriend is way more gorgeous than I’ll ever be. It was stupid of me to think that you’d ever stoop so low. No pun intended. I really wish I could just channel all of this information to you, but that’s impossible without seeming whiny, pathetic, and weak. Three things my pride refuses to let me be.

I’m going to bed now.