Sometimes I wish I could use necromancy. It would be easier. I could talk to the spirits of the dead, and they would understand me. Because sometimes it feels that only one person understands you in life, and sometimes, that one person isn't there. Other times, friends do things to really piss you off. Like deleting a story that holds too much meaning to your heart to be forgotten about. Reasons they would never understand, because they don't care enough about you. But if I was necromantic, I would be able to talk to the dead. I could raise dark spirits and practice dark magics. It's nothing new for me to think this way.
Ever since I was young, about 5th grade, I had be in love with the thought of talking to spirits. Anything to do with them, I loved. I read books about it, researched methods of dark magic and other such things, asked my parents to buy me pretty much anything to do with spirits. Yeah, I was a strange child. But I didn't mind. I had a secret. We all do, after all. But now you know my secret. I have tried everything from ouija board's, to having séance's. But I guess it is something about me I cannot change. It doesn't make me evil, or change who I am. I still love my family and friends, I still care way too much about animals, I'm still a catholic, I'm still me.
But she will never understand the things that hold meaning to me. She will never get why I don't trust her. She will never fully understand me. Because she doesn't care. She will never look at me as more than a pawn in her silly game of life, changing the rules everyday. But life is like a Jenga game. You pull out a piece from the past and use it to build a tower, and keeping taking pieces out to build it higher. Then when it falls down, you start over again. Starting over, even if sometimes you know they won't help you, and that it will take a long time to get all the pieces together again.
