because of you » a.i. [EDITING]

1: today is a good day to die

STOP WHAT YOU'RE DOING + LEAVE A VOTE

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NANA — THE 1975

"i sat with you beside your bed and cried / for things that i wished i'd said"

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ONE / "THE HARDEST PART IS THE 'HEY, MY NAME IS...' AND THE EYE CONTACT" /

Getting ready for my first day at college wasn't easy at all, I absolutely loathe new beginnings. I was dreading it, my anxiety was skyrocketing and I took it out on the skin around my nails; nibbling away at it, hoping that it would somehow ease my woes. New people didn't bother me, but the fact some of them could be five or more years wiser and older scared me out of my own wits. I was only seventeen, with no clue of what I wanted out of life; all I really wanted was to leave this town, turn eighteen sooner, and then pack up my things and leave for university. If only life was that simple and money was no object. Maybe, if I wished hard enough, university life would be so much better and help me find the true self I'd been searching for all these years. I always told myself I'd completely reinvent everything about me once I'd left this place. I needed a fresh start more than anything.

I hated everyone and everything, honestly. I had my reasons but, mostly, I just did because I felt like no one was ever there for me—even though I'd push them away if they so much as tried. Ever since I noticed myself going downhill again I've gotten so much worse; mentally and physically. I'm losing control of my life one breakdown at a time. 

Nobody cares in my opinion but, then again, why would they? I find it so hard to find good friends and stay friends with them without getting annoyed at every small thing they do or complain about. Especially if they just start acting stupid for no reason or, better yet, pester me when I'm trying to enjoy my carb-filled lunch. 

Maybe I'm the problem. Maybe it's been me this whole time.

Deep down, I would love a friend. Everybody who is anybody wants somebody that makes them laugh, they can talk to for hours about nothing of importance, and someone who will never judge them for being a little strange. Some company besides my stuffed Cookie Monster teddy wouldn't go amiss. 

Once I was ready to leave, I waited patiently at the stop before climbing aboard the bus that would stop at college. The bus driver was not-so surprisingly grumpy and rude, snatching my fare money out of my clutch, then jolting the bus to try and send me tumbling. 

I was a teenager so, naturally, I felt mildly uncomfortable because the whole bus was filled with elderly people who were probably appalled at the rips in my black stupidly-skinny jeans (seriously, did I accidentally pick up my brother's spray-ons?). They could hardly act surprised, I've not met many teenagers who would happily rock an old-granny outfit. 

There were no seats available at the back, meaning I had to sit near the front and I hated that. The feeling of being watched and thinking you're being whispered about or judged by people whom you can't see is excruciating. There was nothing I hated more than having people sit behind me. Perhaps they weren't even paying attention to me but it sure felt like it. The image alone of people sitting behind me and breathing down my neck made me feel claustrophobic—it's why I went out of my way to bag the back seat throughout my time at school. That or I'd sit on edge at the front, waiting for somebody to throw something at me or stick gum to my hair.