21

 I hate that all I write about is my love life. 

Why don't I have any achievements, any success, anything to say to my name. It's pathetic.

I'm not exceptionally pretty. Nor is my body good. Nor am I that talented or even that intelligent. The only thing I can hold my hand high to, is that I have a good heart. I feel, and I empathise with people. I have built myself up to not hate or wish ill of someone that badly. Yes that took a while, as shown by my previous posts I wasn't always this... peaceful (if you can call someone not wanting to murder another person that). But I think despite my past, and the bad experiences, I did well. And also this blog, these posts, are my internal feelings and thoughts. It's what I can't even tell my family. It's what I can't put my face to. 

        I'm 21 now. It's crazy how time hasn't really flown by. It just feels like I've been climbing up this rocky mountain and I'm still climbing to reach the top. And at any moment, I could slip and fall right back to where I once was. But I don't ever want to do that, I will dig these hands into every bit of ground and claw my way up to the top before I ever go to that place again. I will be happy, I will reach euphoria. And I will find it. What I've spent my whole life searching for.


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