i don't know if we're scared to write anymore, or what.
i don't know what we'd say if we did write anything.
i don't know who i am anymore.
i don't know what's real anymore.
i don't know how to stop crying.

i don't know why it's been so lonely to be surrounded by people. i don't know why i'm so afraid of being wrong that it's an uphill battle just to start some homeworks. i don't know why it's so hard to be in this relationship lately. i don't know why i don't seem to be able to communicate.

do i have anything to say? it seems like forever since i've written. i guess i just couldn't deal with it. i'm not doing so bad, i guess. i mean, crying is good, i've been doing plenty of crying. no, but really, for all of the new stress i'm doing good. it's just so easy to get overwhelmed - not by the work, but by the anxiety. but i'm sick of that being what i have to deal with.

i thought i could leave all of that behind, but i wonder if we just set ourselves back to a place we maybe can't recover from. recovery. i'm sick of that word. but maybe i have to make a truce with it.