I’m sitting here in bed trying not to cry. The happiness of last week has completely faded away. Going to Storrs was a complete mistake. Not only because I met someone who I am interested in, but because I know that this is not going to go anywhere. And it also reminds me of my non-existent social life. It reminds me of how lonely I feel. I am so lonely. They say: “Never alone, but always lonely.” This is how I feel. Yes, I may be surrounded by people in class, clubs, volunteering places, the job place, and may have a family that loves me, but the fact of the matter is that I still feel lonely. My friends are distant friends, and the ones from my town go away for college, so I rarely see them. At home, it’s just my parents and I. They are boring, and never do anything.

I really dislike this place, and I want to go far, far away. But, perhaps it is not the place. Perhaps it’s me. Is it?

I am not in the mood to talk with my dad. Why is it always him I never want to talk to? I could be in a horrible mood and still talk to my mom. But my dad, never.

Today I was told that my cousin had her first baby, and again, I am reminded of how everyone is moving on with their lives, but what the fuck am I doing? This is no different than the time I found out she was pregnant. My reaction? I broke down into sobbing for a good 30 minutes. Actions speak louder than words.

Today I found out that I am not graduating in May. I have no idea how to feel. This is indeed a set back…even though I was still told that I will graduate in 2012. This isn’t because of my grades, but because I don’t have enough credits. I have always told myself that no matter how grave the crisis may seem, there will always be a way to solve it. Through my will and strength, it can be overcome. But how much strength do I have left? I’m tired of the fact that every year, something tragic happens to me. Yes, tragic may not be the same to everyone. 2008: I lost a best friend because I found out she was a fake. My social life completely died as I entered a commuting campus. My depression was born because I couldn’t tell my family that I am gay. 2009: I smoked Marijuana for the first time. Never in my life did I think that I would do drugs, but there I was, kushed the fuck out of my mind in the back of a car, not knowing what reality was, but in a time of so much uncertainty, it seemed ok to me. Life didn’t matter. When you wake up one day and wonder to yourself: How the fuck am I still here?, nothing really seems to matter. I was obsessed with death and dying. I declared to myself that I would die young. 2010: Went to a hospital after I decided that it was time to come out to my parents. What better way to do it than through a third party that tells them on the phone while I sat on a bed on suicide watch for 12 hours? Me sobbing doesn’t mean I am going to kill myself, but ya’ll now how people are in this country; you say the word “cut myself” and you are in a mental hospital for months (and yes, they can legally keep you if they decide you are not “fit” to go back to the real world-I’ve heard the stories).

2011: More depression and the Storrs Campaign. My grades dropped, and I abused alcohol and Marijuana whenever I could. I had an extremely unpleasant case where I drank myself into hysteria while blasting dark Jeffree Star songs in my room and dancing to the lights of the disco ball. When reality sucks, anything else is better. I also ended things with another best friend because he was a cancer that was contributing to this depressive madness. I also become a slut and had two STD scares. And now, my depression looms over.

I should feel glad that I am finally really busy with school, work, and activities outside of school. However, this is all work and no play. I sit in bed every Friday and Saturday night, wasting time on the internet while others are having unforgettable nights. I cannot manage my stress levels anymore. I cannot even manage my own schedule. Everything is always on the go. I am eating poorly. My life has become nearly unmanageable. I am always busy at all times, and I feel like a workaholic.

Yet, I want a boyfriend more than ever. How crazy is that? That would take a lot of time and energy from me…but I still want one. This is the most deepest of desires.

I always say that Providence keeps saving me time after time. When a “tragedy” occurs, I come out of it. Am I unscathed in the long run? Perhaps. But the scars are there, and even though time works wonders, they still hurt, and they will always sting periodically. I am human, and I hurt like the rest of you.

When will my happiness come? I am not selfish, but in all honesty, when everyone around me is happy except for me, is that something that you can thank Providence for? It keeps saving me, but this only prolongs my existence, and the unhappiness that comes with it.

What do I do? What can I do? I feel trapped. I feel like a bird with broken wings trapped in a cage. What is left for me? I am tired of the monotony. I always say expect the unexpected, but I feel that in life, at least mine, everything ought to be expected in the end. I have come SUCH a long way…from being the kid in elementary school who was called a faggot multiple times, didn’t talk to anyone, and had no friends…to someone that people look forward to and enjoy hanging out with.

And the sad part is: I only want that special someone. That would make me happy, genuinely happy. I am not a user, and I know I can’t rely on people to make me happy, and I shouldn’t, but when everyone else around you has someone special and you are exposed to it daily, weekly, monthly, and yearly, it’s legitimate TORTURE.

I am not saying others don’t deserve to be happy, but I would like to say that MY happiness counts too. I don’t care if I’m poor and living under a bridge, or working some stupid retail job to save my ass from going homeless…if I have that special person that I have yearned for for such a long time, it wouldn’t be that bad. I am not codependent, but I am loving and passionate person. I want to share that with someone. I want to love and be loved. I want to give my heart and soul to that other special someone. I am not looking to settle for anything with just anyone. I am looking for the real thing, but like I’ve been told many times: I think I’m the only person my age who wants the real thing and not slut things up.  When you have waited for some time, it gets exhausting. I really think I was born to love someone…and I have so much love inside of me, I have no idea how to express it…it gets awkward.

Every day, when I wake up, I wonder how much more strength I have left. I am afraid that life is going to end up badly for me, somehow. I see nothing but gray clouds. I no longer know where this ship is going, I just know that it is stranded, floating aimlessly in the silent, dark blue sea of dark skies.

This is me being raw, this is me being me. I am never afraid to show who I am and how I feel, and for that, you can either admire or hate me: I don’t care, and never will. I’d rather have everyone hate me than be someone who I am not. See, when you’re true to yourself, the opinion of other people will never matter, “I’d rather be hated for who I am, than loved for who I am not.” Will God redeem me in the end? Will I achieve my one true dream in life? Despite everything that has happened…I’m still here. I guess that’s all I can say in the end: I’ll be here still. I’m all I’ve got.

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