People keep on telling me that if I don’t know what to do, then I should just do. Every day I get these paradoxical comebacks and I don’t know how I am going to cope any longer. Nowadays every time another challenge is pushed into my direction I envisage how I plan to kill myself. I often have images of a noose but I don’t know how to tie one, how I will do it, where I will do it. It will end up to be a drug overdose probably. I don’t know what drug though. And since I am a medical student, I will end up looking up the symptoms of a drug overdose with a view to figuring out whether I actually want to or not. This is not the best thing to do but if I am to die then I do not want to do so whilst suffering. It’s funny though I am staying alive and suffering all the time, apparently that doesn’t really matter. But I guess that there is some kind of nobility to dying because of how special it is. You only do it once.

Things could have been so much better for me. But they aren’t. People don’t seem to understand this. I am just waiting for death. I am dying in slow motion and I don’t understand why I deserve to be where I am. My father says I will end up like my grandmother, bitter and alone if I continue to be the way I am. He said it in kinder words. I just don’t know what to change, how to be, who to act like. All those teenage films that begged us to be ourselves, to embrace who we were because the geeky yet quirky beautiful-but-didn’t-know-it girls really did end up with the popular rugby player in the end, were wrong. That’s why they are films, that’s why those films sold; it is because they are fictitious but let us live through them and hope that these dreams could be real. They aren’t real though. I know that.

You said hi to me today. I said hi too and faked a smile but I think you thought it was real. I know you will never make any effort to speak to me, but then why should you? I do not make you happy, I am not good enough for you, I am worth nothing to you, everyone knew from the start that there was no way you would ever want to be with someone like me. I am so utterly ashamed of being myself and I wish more than anything that I could be something special, something good that people would love. That “person” would love. But it isn’t really happening and it never really has and I am sick and tired of hoping that things will be different because I’m grown up now, I know that whatever happens will happen and if things are looking shit, that is probably because they are. You said hi to me and smiled and walked past me and my chest tightened up in a big knot and all I wanted to do was unravel it but we are in public after all and I can’t make any more of a fool of myself than I already have.

Stop making my heart beat so fast.

It is cruel when the past seems to unlikely, so distant and so unbearably different to the present that you start to wonder what is fact and what is fiction - what happened, what didn't.

I wish I could forget.

(How could I?)

For years, I have wondered about the body imprint left in the grass, by the tree that held the noose that almost carried you away. The body imprint was left there for me to lie in. The noose was mine. I know that now. The hand of fate or God or whatever took one child away, and tried to take another one. But the truth is it had been pulling for me all this time and if I don't die now then it will take someone else instead. I know that I must die, it is the only way that everything will be alright.

No more.

I want to die.

Your smell bled into the duvet. I smothered my face into it, breathing you in and almost tasting your presence. It seemed as though the scent lingered for hours though I'm sure it must have faded long ago. I can still feel it on my bedsheets and on my skin though. It's warm, bittersweet and it's all the air I wish I was able to breathe for the rest of my days on this planet. I feel scared knowing the only way that smell will ever return is in my memories, the rare ones that absolutely no one knows. The information that you never see the sense in revealing yet you hold them close to your chest like you're protecting a newborn from the world. I want to protect the memory of you and I couldn't bear to lose your smell. I told Stuart about you, and me, and us, and your smell, and our dance, and how you are everything and suddenly this entry becomes desperate and terrified to lose you I'm going to breathe you in for as long as the goddammned sheets will allow, for as long as it holds the moments we shared and I swear nothing will ever smell sweeter, no air will ever be as pure as the air I inhale from the space where your head used to lie and I will wonder just how the hell you stole my inhibitions. I'm soaring, I'm flying and you, my friend, are always with me. Your smell never leaves and the air will never be the same again. Who knew breathing could be so good...

I can't tell you how hard it is not to want to die right now.

I'm still listening to Something Corporate. Every so often it feels like not a lot has changed. It's hard to focus on one thing. My mind is EVERYWHERE.

If only I was courageous enough to speak the truth... I would tell you that I love you. I'm too scared to say it but in all honesty I love you. I always have and I think I always will. Part of me mocks myself for wanting to tell you this, because the word "love" is not nearly enough to describe what I feel for you. It disappoints me because it's so short, so meaningless when the ecstacy of your presence and your unfailing ability to steal my heart every time I see you speaks volumes more than just l-o-v-e.

You make me feel so invincible.

Where is Danial?