Loneliness

I don't think I've ever felt this alone in my entire life.

I thought the transition period was bad before? Now it's even worse. I don't want to leave, because there's so much left unsaid, undone, and unaccounted for. I don't want to stay, because then I'll get more attached to the things that I won't have in two months. I do, however, have some very distinct urges.

I want to paint. I want to paint something, last summer was great because it allowed me to paint my room. Well, my room's painted and now I'm shit out of luck.
I want to go sit on the roof and look at the wide open sky. Oddly, that's comforting to me. It's less suffocating.
I want to cry. Goodness, I want to cry.
I want to tell everyone what I really think about them. I want there to be no things that I'm too embarrassed to admit to, and I don't want this sickening feeling that I'm replaceable, because I am. I find myself in situations that involve groups or subsets of my supposed friends, and realize that the summer could very well go on without me even being here at all. I'm replaceable, forgettable. And that's what's happening- I'm being replaced and forgotten.
I want to blog, all day, every day.
I want to come to terms with all that I've been repressing. I don't know how to come out and say this directly, but I wish I could. I need to be...well, be me... without worrying what anyone will think of me. And I don't know how to do that. Hopefully I will in California.

That's the other thing. Part of me can't wait to get out there and start doing whatever it is that I'll be doing. But part of me doesn't want to leave. At all. Ah well.

For goodness sake, I'm listening to "The Script Radio" on Pandora. I'm clearly in a very blue state of mind.