I got scared again. Not by Her. I got scared of myself. And you. I wrote my last journal and then I started having these thoughts again, that I’m just being self absorbed and what I feel doesn’t matter to you at all and that I should just get over it. Then I got caught up in doing the “normal” things again, playing games, watching videos, studying, exams are coming up, and I should be studying for them, but I’m here writing instead because I know this is something I need to do.
I realized that I shouldn’t be self conscious, because that’s exactly what I come here for. That’s exactly why I have to say everything here, where you don’t know who I am and I don’t know who you are. Every day I always tell myself that what I think doesn’t matter, that everything is outside of my control, that I should just be the silent rock that everyone else just so happens to be around when things are happening. I shouldn’t have impact. It’s not like I can have impact. I’m already so insignificant. I’m not good at anything.
But I remembered something else today. I remembered that when those thoughts start happening, I should stop and come here. I should tell you what’s happening. I shouldn’t care what you think. This is for me. This is for me to be selfish. This is for me to actually care what I think and not care what you think. Sometimes I think no one’s going to be listening. But I remembered that’s fine too. Because in the end, I’m still going to read this to myself and then maybe feel better. Maybe I won’t hate myself as much. Maybe I’ll work up the courage to talk to people face to face and make friends, or something even more special than that. Maybe I won’t be sad so much. Maybe I’ll be what people want me to be. Maybe I’ll be what I want me to be.
I’m having a ramen soup cup now. It’s a bit hot and I’m sort of burning my tongue, but not to the point that it hurts, just to the point that I know it’s going to be irritating later. Actually, I might just be eating it out of spite. I made one earlier with the intent of eating it while writing (which I’m doing now) but I spilt it all over my desk and floor and I think some of it seeped into the edge of the wall but I can’t really do anything about it. I spilt it because my room was dark, and when I reached over to turn on the lamp it fell over. Then I spent about 20 minutes cleaning it up. But now I have a new one I made, which tastes pretty good.
I know that was a random tangent. I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t be. But I still am. You probably don’t care about cups of noodles or how they slip and spill so easily. But I wanted to tell you anyway. I think it’s the little things that I bottle up that I wish I could tell to someone but I have no one to tell. There’s so much I want to say that I never say to anyone because I’m afraid of them. And myself. But you’re here, and that’s what matters. As far as I know, this conversation, even though it’s completely one sided and self absorbed, is real. Actually, I don’t know that it’s real. But it feels real. So thanks.
It was nice to see you again.