Lost (I should be, but I'm not)

#NowPlaying: Somebody's Heartbreak by Hunter Hayes // Nepal By San Cisco

Dear Friend,

  It's another weekend, technically. It's 'exam week' next week, and I should be studying. But I'm not. Instead, I'm here drinking tea and aggravatingly waiting for anyone reply to my text, asking if they wanna have lunch. Something tells me this isn't going to be a productive day at all. Having too much on my mind and nothing to do doesn't sit well with me. Sigh. 8:06 am. Still no reply. This is killing me.

  While I wait for people to actually wake up around here, I guess I should entertain myself by letting out some things of my mind...

  I've been told that I've been acting strange lately. Maybe it's from the fatigue and lack of patience I've had with people. Plus, the fact that I've been rushing deadlines this week with no help at all from the people that should be helping me. But they did not. Truth be told, I have  been feeling strange lately. I'm not really myself. I thought for sure that I'd be back to the old be once I got enough sleep. But that didn't help. It feel like something sucked the life out of me. Whatever. Maybe next week, things would be back to normal. I'll get to see my star again.

  Also, I don' t like the feeling of pretending. Like most people, I hate pretending that I'm okay when I'm not. It's been a while since I last cried in public, but something in me just triggered it the other day. I have no idea what was happening to me. When have I been so vulnerable?

  As I'm writing this, I'm not feeling like myself. Usually, I write with vibe and emotion. But I'm just kind of indifferent, with a bit of realization. I should be happy. But I'm not. I should be feeling something. But I'm not. I should be feeling love. But... I can't say I'm not. Because I am and it hurts and it's scares me. It's scares me that I'll spend the rest of my life searching for that boy who I may never see again. It scares me that to think I might go back to how I used to be. Lost. I'm lost.

  Sigh.

  There it is, a  spark of emotion. I know most of the things I say don't make sense. I speak in riddles and am partly bipolar. Sometimes, I don't even understand myself. Most people don't.

Thank you, dear friend, for reading this short, but confusing journal entry. I promise, I'll avoid doing this again.

Love Always,
Yasmeen