I'm homesick for the home I've never had. I want to be back with the people who make up my family. And no, it's not those who I share biological similarities with. It's the two people in the world I would do anything for. The two people I trust with almost absolutely anything. And like I always do, I managed to fuck it up. Again. I want to erase. I want to rewind. I want a do-over. It's not fair to keep throwing me these curveballs. I don't give a fuck if life isn't fair; I've had my fair share of trials and it's time to cut me a break. I don't want to be waking up afraid that I'm going to have to call 911 because I can't breathe. Again. I don't want to be taking the bus to school, afraid of what's going to happen if I speak my mind. Again. I don't want to be coming home, afraid of what mood the house is in today. Again. I'm drowning in my own fears. I can't trust anyone with them. I want to push people away so that I can find out who is going to come back. I'm sure that the people who are still here are here for just a moment, fleeting in the human-made concept of time. That once they see who I really am, see all of me and not just the good or just the bad, they'll run. Because I can't even handle me most of the time. How can I expect someone else to? How can I ask this of them? It just doesn't seem fair. So instead, I'll continue on. I can't go on; I'll go on. I miss my best friends. I miss feeling like I'm safe. I want to find someone who wants to be with me all the time, someone who holds me in their arms and proves to me that they won't ever let go. I want someone to share a bed with at night, so when all of the monsters come out of their caves and dance around my depression, I can turn over and be comforted as I cry out. But some people aren't meant to be happy. They're meant to make others happy, and just try and be content with that.