You know, I could really go on and on about how depressing and worthless my life is. How everybody and everything that matters to me, has decided I don't matter to them. But in this one fleeting moment, I won't. I won't complain that my best friend is really just a half-assed acquaintance and that I desperately want a boyfriend, but am too fat to have one. And that my mother hates me and that I hate my mother.Oh, and that I feel like my life is crashing in on me and nobody accepts me and that I look disgusting and that I need help and... This could go on and on. I could make it all perfectly poetic, and maybe, in some sickly way, beautiful. I could deceive you all and make myself look and seem almost god-like.
But I'm not. And my life isn't anywhere near poetic. And so I'm not even going to start- tonight, I've finished before I've started. This little self-pity fest, just for tonight, is done with. Over. Out the door.
And maybe, this one little decision on this one little gloomy night means that everything that went wrong, is finally about to go right.
Hope has shown its pale, adolescent face.