I am a good person, certainly not the best, but overall a good person.

I am someone who will call off work to go to your cheating boyfriends birthday dinner in support of you and your broken heart, all the while wanting to throw a knife into his chest.

I am someone who will pick up your weekly farm share when you are away.

I am someone who will hide the madness running rampant throughout my brain to hear about your latest adventures.

How is it that I cannot function in this atmosphere?

To earn a sense of belonging, you must wade in the water before you finally sink in.

Being lost at first is the norm. What if I have been lost for four years, and still searching? People are unable to understand me, because I can hardly explain who I am. Something inside still feels empty.

I refuse to sit here and regret my past decisions. Maybe they were not the rights ones, and maybe they were impulsive.

It is so hard.

Why couldn’t I just be like everyone else? Go away to school, make new friends, find my passion, fall in love, and find what my life is meant for.

This is not a pity post. Do not read this with a sympathetic frown. Know that this is writing out of frustration with myself.

I am a good person, but how the hell can they tell? I don’t live on campus. I am here for four classes, three days a week. Work consumes whatever school does not.

I smile and they smile back, seemingly nice, but uninterested.

By finding solace in the silence, I have betrayed the extroverts of society.