I'm not one to think highly of myself. I make mistakes, I talk about people behind their backs, I'm not the nicest person alive, and I often justify my mistakes wrongly. I know that to get somewhere in life, I have to work for it. I have to be nice to others, acknowledge the faults that I have, and embrace them. If anything I'm striving to better myself currently. I don't like who I've become over the years. All the hurt, the anger, it's all building up inside. It makes me a bitch and unapproachable. And one of these days, it's going to make me explode. I'm waiting patiently for that day to come. I'm waiting to see what I'll do about it. What other people will do about it. Will my friends shun me? Will my family feel disgraced? Will my parents send me to a loony bin? I don't think I can handle losing any more people in my life. No, I'm not talking about death. I've yet to lose a loved one to death. I can honestly say that I'm grateful for that. I know I'm lucky as well. A lot of people die yearly. People lose their other halves. I shouldn't be concerned about losing someone who is my other half, though. I've never had someone to love me the way everyone needs to be loved eventually. I've been alone, romantically, my whole life so far. I know, a mere sixteen years isn't that long to be alone for, but it still counts. It still makes me question myself harder than I ever have before. But to save you the pain of having to read about that, I'll move on...eventually. I don't know what else I'm going to write, yet.