I want an escape. That's really all I'm looking for at this point.

I want to be better and I want you to help me. But I know that I'll only get that from you on drunk nights when you're farther gone than I am and there's no pretty girl beckoning you. That's when I get mad, when I realize that you are just one more boy looking for your fix and you've got someone throwing themselves at you.

I get it, you can talk with Kat because you've known her longer and he just left her and now she's working on picking up the pieces and trying so hard to be so much stronger than she wants to be. I just want someone to tell me that it's going to be okay, because for the life of me, I can't tell myself that. I have yet to figure out how to stop being so hard on myself that I can finally trust that people care for me and that I have some worth on this planet.

I don't think that I've done enough until I've stretched myself in 30 directions and then I wonder why I'm so over school.

My problem? Last quarter wore me out. And I haven't recovered. And I don't have time to recover. I have to keep chugging along and hope against hope that therapy will help make me better.

I have to hope that this will "fix me" for lack of a better term. That discussing my own self-hatred will help fix the root of this problem.

The one where I need people to give me the go-ahead, since I absolutely hate taking hold of my own life.

I think the part that bugs me the most, is that whatever way that I think I'm hiding these things from people, I'm not. I'm like an open book and everyone is reading my story.

"The most important question: is he gonna get in your pants?"

"No."

"Are you gonna tell him?"

"Not yet."

"That's fair, you deserve to play with him for a bit."

I'm sorry. What the hell does that mean? 

You're leaving after this week and I'm never seeing you again. All I want to do is tell you to your face that for whatever stupid reason, I've been hung up on you for far too long. And the things you tell me I over analyze until there's nothing left.

And then I want to walk out of your life before you walk out of mine.

I know I shouldn't do this.

I can't live my life in the form of the moment people I want to see contact me, I drop everything and all my plans and say "how high."

I'm half torturing myself. I either hang out with coworkers and continue to play this fun charade of how what they say doesn't get to me. Or I go to hang out with my friends from so much longer and deal with a stupid one who refuses to talk to me. But really, now that I'm so mad, maybe we'll be back to square one.

Or not, I'm done being hopeful on that front.

I so badly want to see them. I have the added bonus of Smile & Nod auditions as my excuse, which gives me more time to figure out what to say.

I'm being stupid. I hate it.