Journal Entry: Staying Here a Little Longer
19 Apr 2014I am not okay. I am not fine. I need help.
No, not help— more like someone who actually bothers to listen and give me advice. My brother is kind of like that, but he just judges me and tells me what I did wrong. There’s no help in that. Whenever he talks to me, I feel like crying.
It makes me so sad. I don’t like feeling like a disappointment to my brother. Sometimes I think my love for him is really just hate, disguised to look like love. Maybe I disguised it to keep myself sane.
My mom lost her brother in a car accident when he was only 22. The way she describes it sometimes makes me want to cry. Just imagine being so close to someone, and then one day—poof. He’s gone.
I don’t know what I would do. Sometimes I feel like my brother is my best friend, even though he annoys me so much.
I’m just tired. My ankle is sprained, it hurts to walk, I have a PowerPoint due in three days, a math project to finish, and a practice exam I left at home. I’m at the park right now with nothing to do and no one to talk to.
Life is amazing, but some people don’t treasure what they have. They don’t realize what it means to be alive—the blood in your veins, the spark in your eyes, the constant plan of action. There are things to do, people to meet, stories to tell. But some just sit there, staring silently. Sometimes I want to shake them and yell about the excitement of living.
I guess that’s why I write. At least I can understand myself.
People around me seem so amazing, and it makes me feel small. I get envious.
I want to go home. I want to hide. I wish I wasn’t so untalented.
Still, I’m going to be fine. I’m going to be okay. I’m going to make something of myself.
Sometimes I look in the mirror and think I’m not so pretty. This is one of those times.
Now it’s time to get up, put on a smile, and stop whining. No one likes a sad girl.
I think I’m going to stay here a little longer.
