I’m so tired… tired of it all…

I hate this… I hope he’s happy he dropped me into my own personal layer of hell…

A layer where people search through my phone and I get screamed at for crying and hurting… and they’re so mad that I’m upset.

I hate that I’m told he’s not worth it, that he’s every swear word in the book.

Why can’t people leave me alone and let me mourn?

Why do my parents hate me for crying?

Why does everyone blame and not listen and support?

Why can’t I cry? Why to people scream at me for crying?

I hate them. I really hate them. I can’t be cheerful if I’m crying and hurting… I can’t. It’d be false, and I’m not a false person.

Why do I keep snapping and getting angry at people?

Angry psycho bitch isn’t who I am.

Why the hell did I write that letter last night to him…?

God I’m such a fool. Such a goddamned fool.

I wanted him to call me… but that didn’t happen. He needs his ‘time’…

Shouldn’t I be the one who needs time?

He’s the one who dumped me… not the other way around…

Shouldn’t I be the one not talking to him?

Why do I want to talk to him so badly?

Why does hearing his voice, knowing in some way, he still cares mean so much and makes the ache go away?

When I wrote him, I told him about something I’ve kept close to my soul for two years. Something I’ve wanted to tell him… and he doesn’t care… and that hurts so fucking much… I thought he’d care… but he doesn’t.

I feel like my heart got ripped out… he probably thinks I’m saying that simply because I want to hurt him…

I’m not like that. I’ve never been like that.

I… I just wanted him to know the truth…

If he hates me for it, that’s a chance I had to take.

I’ve been listening to ‘My Immortal’… and I’ve loved it alot before… now I adore it because it sums up all that I’m feeling…

I told him I blocked him… I was going to basically delete him from my life… but I can’t…

I hold my finger over the delete button and I start bawling… and I can’t stop…

He’s my friend… I can’t hurt my friend… and my friend’s hurting me by his silence… and I just want to die.

Curl into a corner and die.

My chest still hurts… I’ve probably had a stress heart attack, but I don’t care… The stress keeps piling up…

Mom’s slamming things in the kitchen because I don’t want to talk to her… I’m getting really really aggitated at her about it… and I don’t like it. She doesn’t understand.

Oh, she says she does… but she doesn’t. And I hate her for that.

Dad got mad when I said I wasn’t hungry last night and went storming out like a fucking reject… and I started crying and sobbing…. Why am I the bad guy? Why am I always the fucking bad guy in things?

I hate him too…

I hate Joe for treating me like this… I hate him for not talking to me… I hate and hate and hate… and it’s changing me as a person… I’m turning bitter and hateful…

That’s not who I am, so everyone tells me.

I still look at the phone… and wait for him to call… and that hurts me so much.

I’m going to go back to bed and cry again… maybe it’ll help me feel better.