I like her a lot. She my favorite person to follow. She’s not afraid to speak her mind, and she doesn’t give a fuck what anyone thinks. And I really admire that about her. If you don’t know her you should get to know her because I think she’s awesome.
Part of me dies for the opportunity. Part of me has asked for it every second since you said you can’t talk to me anymore. You have no idea. I mean, I don’t even understand it. So how could I ever expect you to? Exactly. I can’t. The other half of me? Well, it dies for the opportunity, too. But, in reality, it tells me that I can’t change anything. I desperately want to. Me wanting you has nothing to do with the rest of the world. Honestly. You saw me for who I was and still liked me. Still wanted me. You liked who I am. You liked what I am. Regardless of the monster within, you thought you could tame the beast. I guess I was carrying too much with me. I’ll just be a settler in this tempest. There’s not much for me to say. Well, clearly that isn’t true. I’ve said so much already. I fall in love with the idea but suffer at the hands of reality. I know what promises I made and didn’t make. I broke no promise. I lied and lied again about the same thing, but I broke no promise. No one made me promise. I know it was wrong. But I spent a few days happy. Goodness, was it worth it?
Likewise, I feel like everything I do is just me making random grabs at something to grasp onto and pull myself through. It’s just kind of survival at this point. It’s not thriving, it’s surviving. My thought process has been “Okay, if I can make it to the end of the semester”, then “Through AP testing”, “Through finals”, “Through summer band”. “Through high school” Really, it’s all just a fight for survival at this point. I’m trying to clasp onto something else that could pull me through. It’s not working. I just want to survive. It’s past being happy or having fun; it’s to the point where I just want to make it out. I’m miserable. Goodness.