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Its been another couple of years, time for a journal entry! I've never been a daily journal user.

Today I was thinking about secrets. Mostly in my family, all the things they never told me, and how I learned to be just like them and keep everything to myself. I'm not sure if I keep myself isolated and push away people, preventing them from knowing because (1) I want to be alone or (2) I'm so used to being alone that I reject ppl before I can be rejected.

Every day I patheticlly dwell on all the insignificant things, which alone mean nothing, but together are a monster inside me. The only person who stops me from succeeding is me, pathetic. Online and IRL I push people away to my detriment. What is my logic that it is less pathetic to call myself pathetic, than to explain why I feel this way?

I'm close to graduating from my college degree program. Change, new jobs, more people, the pointless making of friends. People shouldn't like me but they do. Where were these people when I used to desperately desire anyone to be my friend? When I used to try so hard, but no matter what I did the result was the same: nothing. I used to try, and in some way I still do. Nothing ever used to work, people all rejected me. Then, as if it was the easiest thing in the world people do want to talk to me and be my friend. Did I get used to being alone? Or is being alone something I want?

That is the dwelling I do, well...some of it. Me, my secrets, and I.