One of Four "The End"

Freshman year is over. Praise the fucking Lord. I could go on and one about what I learned this year, what I can take from this new expierence. But I just can't. I'm too tired. I'm exhuasted of this terrible, terrible year.

I'm tired of being sad. I'm tired of losing my friends. I'm tired of being replaced. Of hating myself. Not being good enough. Not eating. Eating. I'm tired of being ugly and fat and short. And being angry and hating of everything. I'm tired of being so negative. I'm tired pining for my past. I'm tired of being alone. I'm tired of disappointments and disappointing. I'm tired of ripping out my hair. I'm tired of lying. I'm tired of trying to make someone (anyone) help me. I'm tired of being stupid. Of fucking everything up. Crying. Not being able to cry anymore. Of being being a bitch. Faking everything. Lying. Waiting for a better break. Being quiet. Watching everyone get sick. Fucking cancer. I'm tired of swearing and texting and this fucking computer. I'm tired of waiting to get into a car crash. Changing and change. I'm tired of people just walking out, and not giving a crap that I can't do it anymore.

I'm so tired of this year.

And I just want to go to sleep. Only if I do, I wonder whether or not I'll let myself wakeup?

I never wanted to see you get hurt. Unfortunately everything I say to you is irrelevant.

Excuse while I close my eyes, Tara.

Have fun getting your heart ripped out.

See when I stop being such a control freak everything gets out of hand.

I should care that my best friend hates me, and I hate her right back. I just can't anymore. I don't have the energy, and I can't fucking deal with it. The truth is I'd rather be fighting with her because it'll hurt so much less when she moves to Georgia. Oh Tara, I can't take you right now. I can't take your accusing and yelling and freaking out at me. I just can't. I get it, your dad is a jerk. Welcome to the world where dad's suck. STFU. You /have/ to have the worst dad. I mean he talks shit about your mom, is bringing his twenty year girlfriend to the US, and hates the idea of you moving to a different region. But anything wrong with my dad is wrong, and I'm too dramatic. We all hate you because you blow us off. Actually we are done with your excuses. You don't have to lie, Tara, just say you don't like us anymore. Stop pretending. Don't complain about only having a half of summer when you want to move. Don't yell at me for you misreading Thursday for Saturday. Don't scream at me for not telling you what's happening in everyone's life when it's not my story to tell. Don't freak out just because I don't sound thrilled to speak to you.

I stopped calling because you stopped caring. I bet you didn't even notice. You don't care about us? Do you? You accused Jordan of changing into a slut when I told you what she did. Is that what friends are for?

You've changed too, Tara. Just as much as me. So maybe our new selves just can't handle each other.

And that kills me because I genuinely care about you. And I'm so scared for you because I know just how much you're not saying.

Secrets hurt. Tara. Haven't you done enough harm yet?

Just stop fucking with me because I'm done with this fake friendships. I am finished with being disposable for you and everyone else to use.

You know where to find me.

I think I know why I've only gotten worse. The medical world is confusing place indeed. Stupid misdiagnosis, I'm smarter than you. Except not.