notes entry on defendant's phone, 14/02/17
It's Valentine's Day. I don't know whether to be sad, happy, or in between. Should I rejoice in happiness? Wallow in sorrow? Be emotionless? People are expecting things of me and not telling me those things, and when I don't do those things or act that way, they get mad at me. I don't know what people want from me anymore. It's the first Valentine's Day that I've had in a long time where I don't have a valentine, an unusual feeling I'm not liking. I'm refusing to let go of the time when I had a valentine or two, basking in the glory of love. When everything was alright, my life was better than great, and I could live my life the way I wanted to. It's reminiscent of a better time, when I had everything in my life sorted, or at least more sorted than right now. I keep holding on, carrying more vivid descriptions of the emotions love entails and memories than I can handle. And I feel dragged down with this, but I can't let it go. I can't become weightless. These memories and descriptions are keeping my alive, giving me a purpose to try and better my own life. The feeling of being cherished, valued is one I desperately crave, and without a reminder of what that felt like, I have no will to live.