vulnerable.

I overthink things. My imagination spins out of control. I fall, too hard and too fast; without thinking. I get lost in dreams so vivid and real that when I come back to the real world it's heartbreaking. Sometimes I get so frustrated I break things, rip things apart, get a very brief moment of satisfaction in an act of destruction.

I've lost another battle. And another. You'd think I'd get used to the disappointment and the bitterness, but you never do. You never stop questioning yourself, what you could have done. You never stop getting angry. I the conoisseur and left wanting, just searching, never finding. Bittersweet. 

Friendship is something brittle and fragile and, to me, more trouble than it is really worth. Just when I think that things are going well, I get stabbed in the back, or they turn around and walk away; a holiday's amusement isn't worth the upkeep when school starts.

People can be so wildly insensitive at times. I don't want to hear about parties you haven't invited me to, and I don't want to hear your excuses, and I don't want to tell you what I'll be doing instead - going home, alone, waking up, alone, and then going about another day, alone. Alone alone alone. I'm tired of being alone. 

I may not be beautiful or conventional or...sane, but nobody gives me a chance. I have so much to give. Loyalty. Sincerity. Trust. Love. Does nobody value these things anymore? What else do I have, if not that? What else does anybody have?

I am not one content with being alone, but I get broken, again and again, by human company.

I'll pretend I'm okay. I'll pretend not to cry. There's nothing else I can do.