(I've wasted a lifetime pretending to be me.)
At the end of the day, I'm still most in my element when I'm alone reading or just doing my own thing. University life makes me feel like my feet are cemented to the ground while I stand naked in a crowd. Interacting with the rest of humankind can be so difficult. Things haven't been easy lately, and sleep - my one true solace at night - has mercilessly morphed into a series of restless, wakeless nightmares. In that sense, perhaps it's good that I don't get much sleep. When I wake, I'm so busy that I'm unaware of how tired my body has grown.
I've always believed that the only things you can be sure of are your own thoughts, opinions and feelings. I feel so incapacitated and confused when I can't figure myself out. I feel helpless yet faultless when I in turn hurt the people around me because of my mess. I feel afraid of how unsure I've become about almost everything. I feel like the best medicine right now would be a week of seclusion, my warm bed and all the books I've been meaning to read but haven't been able to get down to.
I wish there were answers.
I wish I could explain to you why things turned out the way they did.
I wish I loved you as much as you did.
I wish I love you as much as you do.
I wish I ache as much as you do.
I wish I could fight.
All these not because I want to make you feel bad or make myself feel better, but because nobody should have to suffer the way you do - especially not alone; especially not you.
I wish I could show you without telling you, because my words do nothing but diminish all that's going on in my mind.