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I hate crying about something that I don't understand.

But I will. It's just easier that way. I hate saying that I do it because it's easier, but what can I do? Not cry? Why make it even more difficult.. holding in your tears, and then later torturing yourself because you didn't let it out. Torturing myself. That's not so uncommon anymore.

I thought about it. I thought about why I was upset. I thought I was in pain. I thought I hurt. But I don't know anymore. I don't think I can know this without the love that was supposed to be there. Love & Pain. Aren't they supposed to be opposites? So if I am not loved, I would not understand pain, right? Oh, why is it so difficult?

Besides.. I shouldn't miss something I never had in the first place. I am happy. I want to be happy. So why bother with this? (Because I want to love him) That him is someone that is nonexistant right now because I've killed him so long ago in my own mirage. I decided that he couldn't possibly exist so he doesn't. Now I want to revive him. But I've kept away from him for so long that he's crumbled into pieces.

I guess that I don't deserve him anyway. I'll sulk forever thinking about it but it's so stupid to just wish and not do anything. I tried. *laughs bitterly* Yeah, right. I did. I only chased after him, and didn't talk. I only followed him, and didn't do anything when he came. I only smile and didn't go any closer. I am one dumb blonde. Except that I am not blonde. That makes me even dumber.

Oh, no. I am not depressed. What are you talking about? Okay, I will explain. I am just not very articulate. I never was. Did you know that? Well. I saw "Popular" today and I was pissed. They had no right in remaking the horrors of cancer and chemo. Okay, they did.. but it was so fake that I had to puke. I know, it's called a "tearjeaker" or whatnot, but in reality, they are not like that. I have been in a hospital, the ICU even! As you can see, I was pissed. But then.. there was another side to it. They showed the therapy for anorexia, and I cried. They had their insecurities about their bodies, and I had my own. I decided to relive my own life and face my own tears.

I am tired of pretending that everything's all right. They're not. They're far from all right but I have pushed the problems aside and pretended that they were not there. I would say that I would deal with it and yet I am not. What am I doing now? Only babbling on and not doing anything about it. That's what I do.. and I am tired of it.

(And I am tired of being jealous of something that I cannot ever have. Love. It just never happens to me.)

Maybe I can sleep and someday dream of it. And draw that picture that I always wanted.

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