I despise days that remind me of my high school social life. Truth is, I didn't have a social life. It wasn't because I had stocked up on extra-curricular activities, had club meetings to attend, or had massive amounts of homework. It was because I spent a majority of my weekends moping in my room, unbeknownst to my parents.

I had many male companions -- they were/are the most compatible with my personality. And no, it wasn't because I wanted to secretly fuck all of them. Girls just get too "girly" for me. [Sorry, girls.] Whenever the boyws wanted to hang out, I couldn't because:
A) I was going to be the only girl there.
B) Parental supervision wasn't available.
C) The movie (the usual activity) got out too late.

Eventually, I stopped asking my parents for permission and told my friends "No". My parents thought I slept in my room on lazy summer afternoons because I was a growing adolescent girl. I was just busy wishing I were dead.

Keeping a journal mainly prevented me from losing my sanity. I have several volumes documenting my depressing thoughts. I don't think I'd ever want to read them over because there must be pages and pages lamenting over what I can't do and time I can't spend with my boyfriend -- jealousy and wistful thoughts. I think I maintained this habit because I was also busy admiring and observing my own penmanship. I also thought I was very poetic and eloquent. I'm not.

Really.

Another pathetic thing that kept me alive was my imagination. Countless hours spent fantasizing with friend or the current boyfriend -- impossible situations that were always in my favor because apparently, I know how to do backflips and fight the gangsters taking over the school.

Why couldn't I realize there were other small things that I could have done? Like read more? Or have more hobbies? Instead my body chose to die, and decided I would never be happy in my life.

My memory recalls the sounds of Summer through my window which makes it more the lonesome because there were no children my age in my street. Nothing but silent heat, the sound of a raven passing by my window, and the occasional car going in and out of the neighborhood. The hot breath of Summer would enter my room and remind me how miserable I was. I would turn over. Fall asleep. Open my eyes to the same heat from three hours ago. Sweat.

All I've ever wanted was to do Something, but all I did was Nothing because I knew I would only end up Miserable.

I wonder where I go when I'm not being myself.

The highlight of 03/21:

hat + wig + glove company

Eleven seconds

is enough for the most dangerous epiphany I've had yet.

Us: I'm pretty jealous that you went to a play.
Them: Well
Them (10:44:00 PM): you could go to a play too.

- Eleven seconds -

Us (10:44:11 PM): I know.
Us: I need to find a good one.
Us: Thanks *********.
Them: You're welcome.
Them: i'm off!
- They are offline -

I don't need you to be happy. I can do it all on my own.
But do I want to?