I guess all those times I wished to move out of home came up and bit on the arse, hey?
13-16 I wished to leave the dreadful place I called home. I wanted to move out and be free. Live on my own and support myself instead of feeling like a piece of shit. Now...
Now I have the chance to move. Away from the pain, the memories, and I don't want to go. In 10 months I am supposed to move to another state with my boyfriend and his family.
For what you say? I don't know anymore. It's so hard. To choose between things that make me so happy, so fucking unbelievably happy. My friends and family, or my boyfriend. WHAT THE FUCK!?

Everything's shitting me to tears right now.

Trouble with police, causing fights, fines, and what ever the fuck else I've done wrong. ARGH! I want to pull my hair out in frustration because I keep thinking so goddamn much!

I have to make a decision about my life. I have to do the right thing. I have to choose or try and make something happen where everything can stay together and nothing will have to fall apart.

I don't know. I don't know.

Maybe I'm sexually deprived? That's why I'm frustrated with everything? Or mabe I miss my boyfriend? A week and a half without him is enough to send me crazy... No love or compassion. No-one to hold me when I'm sad, no-one to make me smile, no-one to just sit and listen to the silence with.
It's just me. Alone. In my room, in the darkness.

Is anything "meant to be"?

I know one thing... I need a fucking job. Quit school 3 weeks into grade 12. Last year and I left it behind to chase the dollars.