I used to be one. . .

I used to be "one of the nerds upstairs". . .

I used to be one of the really happy people. . .

I used to be able to fix everything and handle anything. . .

Look at where I am now.  I'm sitting in my apartment, alone, on a Saturday night.  While all the people I used to belong with are upstairs having fun, I sit here on my couch, blogging.  Because I'm not one of them anymore.  I'm not a nerd upstairs.  I'm not one of the really happy people.  I can't fix or handle anything.
I can't even go up there anymore without one of them leaving the apartment and not coming back until they know for a fact I'm gone.  And it breaks my heart every time he slams that door, seconds after I walk through it.

It's all my fault.

And the yelling.  I can't handle the yelling anymore.  If you yell at me one more time, whether it's about my family life, or who I am in general, I'm pretty sure I'll snap.

The nightmares are taking over.  I'm exhausted and, yet, I can't sleep.  I just stare at the wall and all the images play like a montage of my life.  Every single painful thing that my mind won't refuse to let go of.  All the fights, the words, everything.  Everything that any of you guys have ever said.  The guys that I thought I could trust.  The guys that proved me wrong and right at the same.

There's a constant tear just sitting there in my eye.  Wanting to come out.  But I can't let it.  Crying makes me weak.  It shows vulnerability.  And I can't let them see me like that.  Can't let them know I'm broken.  Because then they'll leave for good.  And the one that was supposedly going to come back, won't.

Not that you were going to anyways.  I knew the second you left, you were gone for good.  I'm never getting my friend back.  Ever.  And I don't blame you.  Not after what I did.

I'm sorry for that by the way.  Not that you'll ever read this to know.

Did you know that I check your blog multiple times a day?  I know it sounds creepy.  But I'm worried about you.  And I'm scared.  And so I check it in hopes you'll post something. . . anything.