Smells like Teen Angst

Yeah, so what. I just feel like writing today, ok? Is that so wrong? No. Huh.. It's almost funny, I feel like saying, "Yeah, whateva'." And for anyone in the dorm, especially Donna, you know what a rare thing that is. I *hate* that word: whateva'. Despise it even. IT has such a negative feeling. Of giving up, of acceptance, of..of..I don't know.
Like I said, I'm just writing. I really have no idea what this will be about. So much contradiction right now, so much contradiction. Stressed for exams (that indeed may be the entire explanation for this piece of work), and yet I feel like I'm not stressed enough., I'm not trying hard enough, and it scares the peanuts out of me that I simply cannot motivate myself to do more. Let's see, there was more. Oh yes: school's almost over! I should be extremely happy, right? And I am, I guess. Almost time for me to go back. Back where I never wanted to leave. But so much crud stands in my way and like the stupid lazy bum that I am, I don't want to face it.
Come on people, we all know why. I'm scared. Always have been, probably always will. I'm scared and it's pissing me off. I don't want to be! I want to fight it, fight it until it dies, until it's dead a gone and leaves me all alone. I'd like that. But I can't even get myself to do that! Man, I really disappoint myself sometimes. More sacredness. (Yes, I KNOW it's not a word, but I really don't care. It works, you know what I mean) I can't wait to go back. But I'm scared out of my mind to go back. Too many what ifs, all crowding for my undivided attention. It's making me crazy! I want that time to be a happy one, and yet I know, I KNOW something is going to happen, leaving be depressed and crying at least one night. I don't want it, but it's going to happen. It is.
And don't give me any crud about "attitude is everything, if you say it's going to happen then it will." I know that people. I know. In fact, I've given that same line to dozens of friends crying on my shoulder. I believed it at the time. I still do now, but that in no way changes my mind. That's another thing. I really really really really really want someone to cry with. I miss that. I miss that about the dorm, always finding the friend you need upstairs or down the hall. I simply cannot find that here, the situations make it impossible. Or maybe I just feel like if I have a nice long cry everything will be over and done with and it will all turn out alright.
At least, that's what the survival part of my brain is pushing on the rest. The logical part knows for a fact that crying changes nothing, and anything I do will, in fact, change nothing. It's all a waste of energy. I know I sound like a horrible pessimist, but bear with me. Perhaps I'm the too recent victim of experience, I don't know, prematurely jaded. This is just how I feel right now. I guess I just need some human comfort. And not at school, not with the friends I have here. I need it late at night when everyone else is asleep, when I'm left alone with my thoughts in the dark. A friendly dark that, all the same, offers no tangible comfort. I hate this. But I know I shouldn't! I'm supposed to accept what's handed to me! I'm supposed to shoulder the weight, carry on! I mean, for pity's sake, it could be so much worse! I'm just a whiney little brat that doesn't want to leave her comfort zone! I know that, I know that, I know that all! Don't I tell myself that all the time? Yet another one of my contradictions, I hate it so! But I can't do it. Trust me, I've tried. I have! Don't, please don't doubt it. I can see that skeptical look on your faces, stupid little girl just wants it easy, she can't handle any change, but that's not true! I..I don't know.. Why am I trying so hard to defend myself? I hate a lot of what I do, because I simply don't make sense. And I can't get myself to conform to my own personal set of morals and standards. And if I can't do that, why on earth should I expect anything at all from anyone else?
Life is so crazy right now. Mostly, I guess I feel alone. I've felt like this for almost a year, and frankly the idea of returning to where I once was is frightening. Have I already said that? Oh well, it won't hurt to repeat it. It's true. I have become part of my friends' past. I am part of last year, I am a thing that was. I merely exist as part of those memories. Therefore, I lack any real presence at the present moment. How can I go back to that? How can they accept me? Too much has changed, everything has changed. Their lives have definitely moved on. I seriously doubt I've allowed myself to do that. I have become frozen in time. I froze the moment I said goodbye to my friends on graduation night and went to bed. I guess I'm still waiting for a miracle to return me to that past.
Here comes that contradiction again. Like Gatsby, I wish for the green light. I stare at it each night and tell myself that soon, oh so soon, everything will be back to the way it was. I will be happy again. Even so, when I read Gatsby's line, "Of course we can relive the past," I couldn't help but pity him. We cannot relive what has already gone, because each moment, individuals experience new things and change day by day. You cannot unmake a memory; you cannot rewire a mind. You cannot relive the past. I cannot reconcile with myself.
I guess I just. I don't know. I'm merely talking. It helps to talk about it. I don't really get to do that, because seriously now, what person could listen to this and take me seriously? I don't even like myself as I write this, how can I expect others to empathize. I can't. So I must write it down. Maybe I just need a hug. I need contact from my family of three years; I need to talk to a friend. And not online. Yes, the internet is a godsend, but it can never be the same. I want to sit down and talk face to face with someone I care about. Heh.. that's another story altogether. The tale of Lily and her stupid heart that won't let her do what she needs to do. Every time I talk to my old dear friends about that particular problem, they get that uncomfortable look on their face. "Dear, sweetheart, child. he's moved on, why can't you?" I don't know. Because I'm an idiot. Because..no, I'm just an idiot. And I'm too scared to discuss it with him. I've tried once or twice, but..it's never really happened. My fault, my fault. And that's the greatest reason I'm dreading my return. I don't want to see that he's moved on. I don't want to see that he doesn't care about me anymore. I just don't want to see it.
And yet..
Do you think it might be worth it? Just to see him? Just to be there one more time? To say, "Hey there, how've you been?" and see him smile at me in answer?
Yeah.
Maybe.

.
. This felt good to write down. If you've made it this far, you deserve a gold star. I could barely take it myself and I wrote the danged thing. I just didn't like the thought of exploding, and I needed to explain to something that, no, I'm not happy. No matter how much I may seem moment to moment, it's never really been true. I used to be happy, punctuated with periods of sadness. Now I'm sad, punctuated with bittersweet moments of laughter. When I forget. I wish I could forget more often. Thanks for reading.