Miserable.

Sometimes I'd love to scream at the top of my lungs.

I'd scream, "Why don't I ever get anything right?"

And then I'd realize it did nothing.

Sometimes I'd love to tell everybody I know and love to go the hell away and never bother me again. And then I'd disappear so that they couldn't find me even if they wanted to.

But who would bother hunting me down? After all, I'm just the kid who never tells anyone anything. I'm just the uber whiny child who runs people off because I get mad at nothing. I'm just the girl who fails at life and love. I should never have been given a heart. Or emotions. Or a mouth with which to express myself.

I should be alone. I'll just be mad when people start trying to talk to me again. I never let things die. I'll be mad and wounded when conversation starts again.

But I'll suck it up. I always suck it up. I give off the wrong impression when I dare to be angry.

When do I get to be angry? When can I be allowed to erupt for no reason?

I should be alone.

I want to be alone.

Forget being social, or trying to maintain connections with people.

It never works.

Not for me.

Farewell.