my pain is real too
27.01.13 | 8:07 am

emma just woke me up by puking on my bed. today i'm supposed to move. i am exhausted at the thought of it. seems some part of me, some piece is always moving, physically or mentally or emotionally. i want to feel like i can talk to someone. no, i want to feel like i can talk to you.

i am a victim of having too much hope and too high expectations. it has always gotten me and it always will and because of it, i will never be satisfied.

i almost said this to you the other day: emma is the only thing in the last four months that gave me any sort of purpose. in a way, she pulled me out of this despairing hole that i'm not sure i had realized i'd fallen into. i almost said that to you, but i'm not sure you'd understand. and more than a lot of things, i fear being misunderstood.

most of the time i feel like even i don't know what i'm saying.

the best compliment i've ever received is that i'm a very self aware girl, and it's probably the thing i'm most proud of.

but i'm not sure where to go from here.

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