talking to people about what's going on about my life now is not the best solution. for one i'm refusing to take their advice on what i should do, because i prefer to choose the self-destructive, false-hope option.
i found this among my other writings:
"It's like that feeling of wanting something you can never get, knowing that it would take a miracle and remembering that you didn't believe in miracles, but hoping nonetheless. How achingly close do you have to get to someone before affection takes over, I simply do not know. All I know is that in the end, the coin flip decided and fate had it's own design. It wanted to leave me that hole for the night."
that day feels fresh in my mind now. it was in october, but i remember it was cold. i walked home that day, alone at 4 in the morning. somehow, on some level, it all began there. if i wanted to look back at the threads of my life that has led me up to this sudden crisis of sorts, that's as good a place to start as any.
what was a merely expression of an abstract sense of what i was feeling condensed into something quite concrete over the past year, and in a confused way, here's where i am. i don't know how to justify what i feel, expect that despite my best attempts, i still feel the same. gah. i hate feeling as if there's something wrong with me, when deep down i know that there's nothing wrong at all.
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