Stella.

I just want to take you through my exact thought processes right now.
Give you a quick glimpse into the mind of the genius.

Strange...

[I want Subway, but the Subway in the Union is egregiously sloppy...and their bread is always so dry.]

My stomach hurts really bad.

I do not want to do anything tonight but go home and go to bed. Just being honest.

It's freaking FREEZING in this computer lab...I've been here rather often since the semester started...it has free printing. What more could a girl want?

I close my eyes for a glimpse of what rest could look like...mimicry is all that I have at this point.

I'm deathly afraid to go back to where I was 8 months ago...I was a mess...and I don't want to go back to that...to the situation, to be more specific. The situation has been rearing its ugly head lately...sending my brain down a path that ultimately sends my poor [currently over-emotional] heart into a frenzy. I'm giggling again...smiling like a schoolgirl...thinking about it all the time.
No, Bianca. I need you to stop it. Now.

I'm sick of this loneliness thing. I'm so sick of it. It's terrible. I don't know if it's technically "loneliness" because I feel that my particular emotion is much more complex than that ten-letter word. I just want to go and find someone and be with them...I don't mean in the empty, "no strings attached" way that seems to be oh-so-popular these days with people my age. I mean, I want to find that love of a lifetime and just be with him. All the time. All day. Every minute. Call him. See him. Talk to him. Be with him.

^That little blurb is probably stemming from the fact that everyone around me seems to be in some sort of relationship...or at least in the preliminary stages. Feels like it's just me out here. Feels like it's just. ME.

I'm twenty years old now. I still feel majorly nineteen...however, twenty is beginning to make its presence known...in small increments.

Paige's attitude almost makes me want to cry. She's so mean, so bitter at such a young age. Looking at her is almost looking into a mirror of my 12-year-old self. I was bitter...angry...mean...filled with rage...but no one knew. Paige is almost the outward expression of how I used to feel. I just want to grab her, hold her, and make her different. Make her not feel the way that she does. I know she's hurting. I just don't want her to.

Where did all my friends go? All the people from high school? What ever happened to them? I feel as though I fell off of the face of the earth, and they're still there. Maybe they fell off the face of the earth. Well, at any rate, someone's fallen, and I can't find them at all.

God...did I really sign up for all of this? Did I? It's scary to feel alone like this...it's frightening...and I don't like it.

I feel the need to cry much more lately...I cried on my birthday. You know those types of cries where you can't do anything but cry? You can't walk...can't speak...you can't move. It's like my body was overtaken by weeping. I missed my father, and my mother's openness just a few moments before the teary-eyed session that I had with myself was most likely what prompted it all.

I suppose I should head to this class about the African-American novel now.
It's been a very cleansing experience to share my honesty with you, Interweb.
Hopefully someone reads this and realizes that they're going through similar things as I am...and they see that they're not alone.









you're not alone.













Monday.