If you do go ahead and indulge in this, well, you can't say I didn't warn you, which takes away your right to bitch.
She dreams a champagne dream
Strawberry surprise, pink linen and white paper
Lavender and cream
Fields of butterflies
Reality escapes her
She says that love
is for fools that fall behind
And I'm somewhere in between
I never really know
A killer from a savior
'Til I break at the bend
Here and now, will we ever be again
'Cause I have found
All that shimmers in this world is sure to fade
Away
Again
Okay. Guys. I'm not happy. In fact I'm kind of a mess. I know, it happens. To everyone. But I'm getting so tired of pretending like everything is okay.
You know what's great? Not having anyone within walking distance that you really, truly trust. Having a handful of acquaintances, of nice people, some you've known for years, some only for a few months, that you joke and laugh with but don't see otherwise.
And what's even better? Living within walking distance of people (or seeing someone everyday) who used to be your most trusted allies, and feeling now like they have rejected you-- feeling this distance and gap between you.
Knowing you've tried to bridge it, but that it's cracked too deeply to repair without aid-- and them not lifting a hand to help.
Knowing that they probably talk behind your back.
Still able to be crushed at a word.
Diving into work and other activities just to convince yourself that you're not really that alone (as everyone is so quick to tell you)-- but knowing that really, you ARE.
Four months ago, I felt on top of the world. I was starting my senior year at college, and felt confident I would do well and have time for the things I got the most joy from-- my art, my friends; laughing, playing. I felt like things may be rough, but that they would work out-- that with the friends I had by my side, nothing would ever destroy me.
Four months later... I have no boyfriend. (Think what you will-- you have no idea) My best friends are now at least an hour and a half away (and yes there's the internet and phones but really how does that even suffice). My interest in my own comic has waned considerably. I didn't have anyone to say goodbye to (*right*) before I left for Winter Break. I spent most of finals week on the computers in the school lobby, role-playing and reading "My Life is Average" because it made me feel some semblance of happiness.
This is not okay with me. This is not something I can pretend away.
If you think this is whining-- if you think I'm being overly sensitive or melodramatic-- if you think this is something else to joke about-- please don't comment. Ever.
If you think this is a cry for attention-- well, you might be right. I am not fine, and I don't want to pretend like I am anymore. Now you know. You might not be able to help, but there you go.
Why didn't I walk up to any of you and say this? Because if you don't already know it-- well, what makes you think I wouldn't be afraid of what you would think or say? This is easier, and I am a coward...