September 1, 2016
It repeats itself every year, a lonely girl in a crowded hallway. A quiet soul with buzzing ears. Silent tears in a public bathroom. It's all the same, all the time. Yet I'm never really alone. I drown myself with people I associate myself with just to fit somewhere yet I know I'm alone. The bullshit of finding love isn't more fun than drowning in a group of familiar strangers either. I'm a hopeless romantic with a hopeless amount of hope for love.
I've set these impossible standards for love yet the only time I've kissed boys was at parties where I was hammered. I muddled and masked my pain last year with the trusted drink of the ancient and modern people, yet I knew it only makes my problems worse.
This year won't be any different because walking into this shithole today feels the same as it does every year.
