Oh Well. Whatever. Nevermind.

 I don’t want to be awake right now. I don’t know why I am. I worked too much this week, so my job had to get rid of my hours for tomorrow, so I’m going to sleep. I’m just going to sleep. I don’t know what I am doing. I keep going back and forth between things feeling real and unreal. 

I worked all day. Then I came home. My father’s been in a shit mood all day. Apparently yelling at my mother all day. There’s something about how I never clean my room. That’s funny because I spent most of yesterday cleaning and organizing it. Hearing my mother talk about everything he was ranting about made me feel like shit. Then I got a belated Christmas card from my real mother. "So sorry… Think about you every day" was written on the envelope. I don’t even know what to do with the card. She wants a picture. I don’t know what to do. 

Then I got a response letter from the one I sent out last week. I already knew what the answer was going to be. I just, I hoped it would be different, and I got my hopes up. I don’t know. I know that it is what it is. I was just dreading for the answer. A big part of me didn’t want to lose that hope and wonderment. For the first time in a while I was actually hopeful about something. It’s been a change of pace from all of the depressing shit that keeps happening. I’m not going to torture myself by thinking that something could happen. Well, it could, in the future, but not now. That’s okay. I’m too crazy to be in one anyway. I just–it’s not often I find someone I like. It’s not often I find someone who seems to understand everything about me. It’s like the perfect combination. And with everything that’s happened, I was really hoping for that connection to happen. I’m stupid. I’m an idiot for wanting some type of personal connection to someone. 

I don’t want to feel alone. I don’t know. I don’t just want anyone. I want to feel a connection there. And I want to be able to hold their fucking hand. I want to mean something to them. I want to feel like I’m wanted. Maybe that sounds needy. But not many people like me. I can’t blame them. I’m abrasive, socially awkward, insane, fat, needy. I should be happy being single. But I’m not. I’ve been alone so much of my life, I can’t stand being alone.

I wish I could escape this fucking house. I wish I did not feel like crying. I wish I didn’t hide so much. I wish I could be that bad boy who gets all the chicks he desires.

The hope is gone. And I wish it wasn’t.  And now I have to deal with so many other things on top of that. I thought the pendulum was finally swinging in the other direction. I thought some good things were finally going to happen. I thought I wasn’t going to have to cry for a while. I have to go reclean my room. But I don’t want to be awake.

Oh well. Whatever. Nevermind.