Why do I have to be fixated on the idea that this is it? Why can I not be realistic about this and see it as a ‘high school fling’ and be done with it?
I don’t want to view it as that, that is why. I don’t want to be my mother, and go through a series of relationships with little emotion, only to serve an end purpose. I don’t want to be left alone with second best at the end of the day. I want to feel loved, happy, and content with my life in the way that I feel my mother and father are not.
I want my life to work basically, and if I don’t feel like I’m making progress towards that now, I think that that is when I question what I’m doing, and when my views clash with those of others.
I’m desperate to write, but I have neither the time nor the inspiration. It’s eating away inside me this need, and I can’t help but feel I am neglecting myself. I want to write, and I need to study, but I don’t feel I have a comfortable place to do either in. Not where I feel it’s appropriate anyway. I have a little over a week to go, and I haven barely scratched the surface of what I need to know. I hate myself for it, and I hate myself for hating myself.
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