i don't feel very good. i don't know why you're here, or who you think i am.
i guess it is masochistic of me to let you find this page, to allow vulnerability to show. i refuse.
i think everyone can tell i'm not okay, but i have no one that i can talk to about it. of course everyone is scared. all you have is yourself, after all.
don't worry about me. i don't matter. this is true. i don't believe the things people say to keep me alive, but i won't die now. i'll die later, but not now.
some things just aren't for everyone.