While I discovered about this person through YouTube, I have found that he has a nice personality, and someone who I would ultimitaley fall in love with, somehow, somewhere. That is, if I ever got to know him besides online text and scripted Vlogs. And while I seek out to what I want -this- blog to be, I don't really know if it would get over dramatic, or if it would seem so surreal to where nobody would technically believe me. I don't know what this blog is to me, and I don't know if I'll ever be able to really find out.
But I have been thinking lately about who I am as a person, and what happened last night between me and Joe. I made him cry, because I could no longer hold his hand while he has this mental/emotional battle with Kristen, his Alcholism, and being a recovering Addict. I know that sometimes people need a crutch, or a rock, but how can we rely on ourselves if we have to rely on other people? I told him that she wasn't coming back, that she will never come back, that she likes somebody else. I crushed his world, I saw the heartbreak play across his features like it was a drawing. I did this, I did it. I was the reason why he cried, he wouldn't let me touch him, or hug him, or comfort him. I saw the most vulnerable part of him come out, and that's when he told me that we had to be just friends, that he had to be alone for awhile. What I didn't want to say was, " You were already alone for ten months." He was the other man in this love triangle with Kristen.
And then later that night he told me that he found out that she was still with her boyfriend, that they never did break up, and that he told her he couldn't wait for her anymore. I don't know how to react to this anymore, because I honestly don't know why I did it in the first place. At first I did, at first I felt that he needed to open his eyes, but I opened more than his eyes. I opened his heart and broke it all the same. And although I want him to be happy, I can no longer pat his hand and tell him that everything is going to be ok. I told him that he wasn't the only one hurting, and it was just. Silly. No, not even silly. I can't even describe the words for it! But I knew that I was hurt, too. But not anymore, now I just feel guilt. And although I love to write, I don't want to go into details on how bad this guilt feels.
So later today, after cleaning the kitchen and upstairs, I want to find out how I am. And I think in order to do that, I need to start thinking for myself. I'm at a point in my life where I don't know why I'm living, and I don't know what to live for. I'm not saying it in the suicidal way, I just don't have a reason. But I want a reason, but then again.. I don't want one. I spent all of my life feeling like I don't belong, but does everyone feel that way at some point? I'm angry, but I don't feel the anger. I'm a lot of these emotions that I can't feel, and although I usually have something aspiring to say, I don't have one for right now. I guess the only thing that I can say is that.. I have nothing so say.
