I wondered why we weren't together...

I know what I want, but not well enough to pin it down. I just get so overwhelmed...

"Fuck you... And you wonder why I have a hard time feeling. It's because of girls like you..."

I spent 30 minutes in my car, salt running down my cheeks smudging the black I use to try to be presentable down my chin. And not because of the above line... That was just a consequence of the rest. I could care less what one person, even a hundred people, want to judge me for.

It feels different, somehow more lonely,  when I'm crying here. Back home, I held it in until I was safely in my room, no one to ask me what was wrong, but I knew my mother and father were right downstairs in case I decided I couldn't handle everything by myself. I always did... But now I would give anything to have my mom right downstairs, sleeping, ready to wake up in a terrified wale if I snuck into her room. I'd give anything to tell my mother everything that's going on... But I couldn't even if she didn't care to know.

I was sitting in my car... ready to run.... like always. I can't explain what's going on and I don't want people to see the frail, needy me that I hide. I actually can't tell if I'm hiding it or it isn't that much a part of me... I'd like to think the latter but I won't rule out the predecessor.

I think it's just a little harder for me now... without the cutting, without the alcohol, without the drugs... to cope with all that I have going on... especially in this nearly schizo matter in my head making me crazy. It would be so easy to fall back into any of those things... I did them well for so long.

This is all most likely just a rambling mess... No description, just ranting. I'm not even going to read through it because I'll hate it all.

I'm to critical.

I'm done crying... My face is stiff from dried tears and my body aches for something more. I'll never stop, you know.