The Partial Journal of Kona Firestar

8/12/16

I lost my best friend today.

He tried to steal from my house. Because as he said, once a thief, always a thief. I cried the night before, because I didn't want him to leave. He threatened to leave because I yelled at him for lying to me over a vape. I couldn't take it. Last night he called me a sociopath, and I got mad at him and left the room, going to bed. I had to sleep... I couldn't take. I can't take it anymore.. I am so alone... My other best friend is on the other side of Tacoma, and I have no one to hang out with. I have literally lost all my friends. All I have is my girlfriend, and even she can't be on all day to entertain me... thoughts flood my head, questions and regrets. People and the past, those certain memories. Everything has crashed on me. My life has become a train wreck. I don't know what to do anymore, and I'm at a loss. He's gone, and now every day is going to be as boring as the last. No one to talk to, no one worth my time. I feel so empty... I hate this feeling.

I hate my life.

You know, death is considerable. I don't have to tolerate being yelled at, I don't have to tolerate pain, or heartache. I don't have to deal with the thinking and the memories and the being broken down. I'm soooo inferior, aren't I? If I'm such a waste, then what's the point of living, really? I don't dream anymore. I used to have nightmares. Every day, ever since I can remember. I'd always be running for my life, being haunted by the worst of it. Every day is a question: What do I do? How do I make life worth living? I don't. Nobody asks "wanna hang out today?" nobody says "Hey! How was your day?" There's nothing to do anymore and I'm so alone and empty and I don't know if I can take it anymore. I honestly have made so many mistakes I can't count. Everything is my fault. I broke hearts and played with people's emotions and I don't know how to stop thinking about all the negative because there just isn't enough positive in my life.
I don't go to California anymore. Too many people have died there, and me being there just brings pain to my grandparents because I'm a reminder of whats gone. But I guess it's worse living where they live, unable to look at something without having a memory be there. A memory of who's missing from our lives.

I get blamed for everything, and even my parents think I'm lying when they ask me questions about things. I hate it. I made a mistake, I made too many... I cry myself to sleep sometimes. I always try to be so strong, but I don't if I can anymore... I have scars for a reason. Lots and lots of scars, probably not even close to matching how many mistakes I've made the 14 years I've been alive. Almost 15 now, once it reaches February again. After that, just three more years. I have to go through high school first, though. Just fantastic. So much more work... but I need an education. I want to make a mark on the world, impact history. I want to be an author, a singer, a pianist. I want to leave my mark on the world, and I want to walk the streets and hear someone talking about me. I want to be remembered, because clearly not even my own friend wants to remember me. I have a plan for the future, but will I make it? How much longer before I give up? How much longer before I can't hold it in anymore...