November 30th, 2015

I don’t even know how to start. I’ve started working. It feels nice. My family still upsets me. I still have the days when I feel like dying, what else is new. They know now, my family, just the small details not the serious ones. It isn’t better, if anything it’s worst, now. I still don’t care about anything. And my 18th birthday is coming up soon. I’m excited, but I’m also scared, I’ve learned something about myself. It’s a scary thought, but it’s help me to understand who I am better. What I’ve realized is that, in this life all I want is to be loved. To feel loved, appreciated, and like I matter. To feel as though my life meant something to somebody. No matter what type of love it is. Even if it’s a false sense of the word I’ll still take it at this point in my life. That to me is dangerous. I see it as me allowing for someone to hurt me because, they say in order to be loved you have to let love in. I fully believe that love is dangerous, a powerful weapon, that can be used to control anyone it possesses. I want that but without getting hurt myself. I don’t even think that’s possible.

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