secrets.

Today Sucks

You'd think the end of 2016 would be a good thing. The last day being the best day, just as it is with school.

Only, it isn't.

Yes, it's an alright day in the grand scheme of things. No one died. No one almost died. No one didn't die who I wanted to die (although I don't want anyone to die so what does it matter?).

But today still sucks.

Why, you ask, does today suck if no one died?

(I mean maybe you believe that other things can make a day suck, but it's nothing like that really.)

Today sucks, because I am me.

Whoopee, an explanation just as vague as the problem, thanks a lot.

Well no, let me explain.

This morning I took a long, relaxing bath, in which I tried to drown myself before deciding at the last minute that I didn't exactly want to drown necessarily and getting out.

Then I went to the ranch and I was so fucking pissed at myself and my brain and my fucking problems.

I wasn't ready to let her go. That's what today has been about. I just wasn't ready.

I've been thinking and thinking and thinking and thinking.

(All the while being a fucking idiot on my horse and attempting shit I couldn't do.)

I've been thinking about dying and about her.

And that's a lot, and today sucks because of that.

If you're her, by the way, stop reading here. This is where I start trying to guilt you into coming back and I don't want you to think I'm weak.

But I wasn't ready to let her go and I'm still not ready to let her go.

She has other friends, but I don't.

There's no one I can reach out to about my mental state. Not anymore.

I have some people who might listen but one of them has no clue about my depression and I'm planning to keep it that way. The other hates me, but the feeling is mutual. I don't know why we still consider ourselves "friends." You know what? I think I'll just cut her out of my life because she's too stressful and I'm tired of it.

(I want to add that my fucking vagina is killing me because like I said, I was being an idiot on my horse a few moments ago.)

Anyways. I want to die more than ever right now because I'm dreading going back to school. I'm dreading the heat of summer. I'm filled with fucking dread and it's getting ridiculous and I want to die all the time now.

But I thought I was moving on. Yesterday I posted a thing that, for once, wasn't about her. And then I thought about what she would think about it and I can't believe how stupid I was for believing I could think about anything aside from her.

I just need to breathe.

She's gone. I have no one to talk to but this book, and the few people who read. All of what I posted here I would have said to her instead. But it's a whole lot of complaining and I'm starting to understand why she abandoned me.

I would love to die. It's worse since she left. Worse since school's been drawing nearer. Worse since summer's getting closer (I hate hate hate summer. Maybe I should go to a long camp where it won't get to 200 degrees?).

I need to think about the good things. I'm going to San Francisco for my sweet 16 (we're flying out on Friday the 13th. Hopefully I die.) and I have a puppy and even though I hate most of the people in my life I can still power through this.

But fuck, I want to die.

And fuck fuck fuck, I miss her. I miss her. I miss her.