5 weeks.

i've gotten very good at faking it.

2:24 am

crying
crying
crying.

i told God because there was
no one else to tell.

wish i didn't always want to be
someone else.
it's exhausting.

3 weeks.

i'm not doing so great,
but i'm not doing so bad,
either.

when the only thing you can think of
that will make you feel better is
sleep,
you've got a problem.

looks like i've got a problem.

is that going to be ok with you?

no.

i'm not fine.
i haven't been for awhile now.

congratulations,
you broke me.
i can't sleep without pills &
i've started seeing a therapist.
i pretty much hate myself now.

sobering, isn't it.

you stole my summer from me, you
bastard.

i wish i'd never met you.

i've had my fair share of
good days
recently &
i can't even really talk about how
refreshing
that is.
& you're starting to fade.
!!!
your memory is finally
starting to fade.
i can't even really begin to
express how excited i am to
forget.
overjoyed.
thrilled.
beside myself with happiness.
it's really finally happening.
i didn't think it would, or that
it could.
but it is.
thank all that is holy that
it is.

my life.

listening to music and
pretending to be ok.

melodramatic.
yep.

news flash.

i spend too much time alone.

my worst fear is that
i am one of the
awkward
boring
generic
people that i just can't stand being around.

it is hard for me
to feel special fun or cool
in this stupid town

i miss you so much i can't breathe.
i wasn't good enough for you.
i'm not cool enough.
i'm not fun enough.
i'm not dynamic enough.
i'm just not enough.

i had no one else to tell
so i'm writing it here.

help.