You don’t even care that I’m not going to be there tomorrow.
NO ONE CARES.
I don’t know why I don’t just take all the drugs I can find and just end this now. It’s honestly not fucking worth it anymore.
I can honestly sit here and say that I have no true friends.
Tomorrow night a big event is taking place on campus, one all of my friends will be talking about, attending, and even acting in.
I won’t be there. I won’t be a patron. I won’t be supporting my boyfriend or my other friends.
All because I don’t drive. All because no one will bring me home. All because my mom won’t come get me.
All because his new girlfriend is more important. All because I’m too far away.
I’m fucking done. I’m done with being pathetic. I’m done with not being a part of anything. I’m done with having to fight so fucking hard to fit in. I’m just done.
All I want is a decent group of friends. All I want is someone I can talk to who isn’t my boyfriend.
If I make it through tonight it will be a miracle. I’ve given up. I don’t care. No one cares about me.
I’m sitting in the campus library alone. That’s typical of my character. I’m an introvert, a wallflower. I’ve never been the type whose been great at making or keeping friends for extended periods of time. It’s one of my fatal flaws. Lately I’ve been thinking that maybe Jeff was right in saying that “I’ll never be happy with life.” We’ve been apart two years now, and I’m even more miserable now than I was then. Sitting here reflecting on my life, allows the little voice in my head to chime out “You have so many reasons to be happy Erica.” While that voice is right, I’m still so hopelessly unhappy.
Sure I just registered for my senior year of college, but the added stress of applying to graduate schools is taking a terrible toll on me. I can honestly sit here and say that I have no idea what I want to do with my life, and I’m running out of time.
I’m 21 years old. Just finally learning how to drive. Constantly relying on other to get me from point A to point B. Working busing tables at the same cafe I’ve worked at since I was 16, stuck at a dead end job selling lotion, getting no hours to support myself due to an ill equip manager.
There’s $17 in my bank account right now. I’ve resorted to selling some of my prized possessions in order to provide myself with some kind of income to live off of.
Everything with my current boyfriend is crumbling. Not that our relationship isn’t great, but we both have issues we need to work on. We’re two very stubborn and proud individuals. Two people who don’t know how to keep a “healthy” relationship afloat. Slowly like the Titanic we’re sinking. We’re alone bobbing in the ocean, praying for that one miracle and so far we haven’t found it, and that scares the living shit out of me. I can’t handle a third failed relationship. My first relationship lasted the better part of 4 years. My second relationship lasted just over a year. The current relationship I’m in hasn’t even made it 6 months yet. He says I need a therapist. He says I need help. What he says is the truth. But sometimes the truth hurts, and we ignore the words of our loved ones, all for the sake of holding on to our pride.
I just can’t handle my life and I think that’s pathetic. I’m essentially at a loss of true friends. I keep everything buried deep down inside of me and hold too high of expectations. My boyfriend bares the brunt of all of my meltdowns when he doesn’t deserve to be freaked out upon. I just need to convince myself that I can get through this. It’s just easier said than done. I’m only human.