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                                            I don't have much to say about myself. If you're here, you probably found me on chatterbox. My name is Johanna and I'm 21 years young. My life consists of only work and school. I'd like to believe I have a talent, and that's to draw whenever I feel like doing so. I'm currently on my second year of college and I'm on my way to medical school after. I'm always doing something, whether it's working, studying, or going to class.
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                                            I sometimes wish my feelings could disappear. To eat an ice cream and having those lingering feelings makes my ice cream taste nothing but a cold sweet dollop of daisy. Having a fresh cup of fruit on a hot summer day only brings the sweet sensations as if I'm eating solid pieces of syrup. The question is, where's the enjoyment? There's nothing to enjoy for what's to enjoy, that's how I always feel since the day you turned your back on me. To miss someone is painful, especially when it's difficult to talk about amongst friends. That's when you begin to figure out that the best friend you have is yourself. I believe my mind is playing games, and that I should've gotten over with such experience, but i cant. It was bitterly traumatic. Though a part sais I have, but I haven't. It's like a lingering sprain on the knee. It's tolerable, but I can still feel it.. I miss the hugs, and the times where my hands were warmed up. I warm my hands up with my car heater for now, which isnt' bad, though something so materialistic isn't going to last a lifetime. I don't think the love I had will ever be given to anyone else that way i've given it you. I was like a cat, difficult to please, but at a certain time I enjoyed to heavily. I want to apologize but I don't, and when I do, I don't know what for. I'd like to think it's because I believe I wasn't talented or that I wasn't good enough, but I begin to remember I do have my certain aspects that are lovely. I wish you saw them, you would've gotten along very well. There's times where I want to apologize because I wasn't clingy, because if I were, I might have still been stuck to you like glue. Second thoughts are nothing but the streams of "what if", so I try avoid it. I want to, but I can't, but then I do, but I can't. I always believed that I'll never be as cool, or as great as you are. You made me feel as if life was a competition. It kind of reminds me of mean girls, but without the friendship rejection. I thought I was going to be just like mulan and have my own little dragon to guide me onto the proper path of happiness. I was just a big baby. If you're still reading, then stop. I know you didn't stop though, because that's just who you are. You don't listen. One of the worst methods to get rid of my emotions, was the idea of signing up for a dating site. I added a couple of whimsy simplistic positive aspects of myself, though little did I know that I would get over 100 men in my inbox. I have met one, and met him personally after. He was tall, successful, and handsome. I thought he would be the one to erase all my pain, the memories of just you. Not you and I, just you. He warmed my hand up. Though holding my hand, it seemed materialistic. After leaving that date, he wanted a kiss and I rejected it so. I regretted not doing it because I left the same way I did before meeting him and before making a dating profile and before I wrote this. Miserable. Though, the next time I saw him, I didn't think I would have the confidence to kiss another man until that day. I felt dirty, foolish, and stupid. It wasn't out of feelings, though out of spite. It wasn't you, it was foreign. I thought that maybe if I didn't follow my feelings for once, I may be just a little happier. It turned out worse than expected. Pressing onto his cold lips for the first time, it was too soft. Where were the butterflies? Where were the explosion of emotions? I couldn't believe how empty I felt, and to no passion I felt, he began to yearn for lust. Passion wasn't my friend, though in fact reality was. I faced him as he leaned for the second, mentally preparing myself as I forcefully did just to get rid of thoughts. I only thought of leaving so. After, I asked: "Why do you like me?" And a simple reply came out. "Because you're pretty." I left in an instant, I didn't know how to feel. He grabbed my ass and kissed me again, but all I felt was no more than a body wanting my own. The crowded feelings of depression and anxiety sank, only to think of thoughts such as "Am I worth it? Will he leave me?" I blamed myself. I blamed myself. I didn't want him to leave me, but I did want him to leave me. He's not you. I deleted him, like I did to you. I believed that if I didn't see you again, I could live a better life. I sometimes look through the store door, at the mall, at a fair, or at a grocery store just to see if you're there. But you aren't. I hate that I miss miss you. I wish you held my hand just once, but I'm scared of getting hurt as much. I know you didn't love me, though I was imprinted. I probably can't seem to recognize what the meaning to companionship or 'love' is, though I don't think I ever will.