My Life

Feb 26, 2001

over the last 6 months i have really learned alot about

myself, about the world, and about stuff that i have missed all these years

of my life. i have missed our on who i am. on what my life is. I’ve been here

for 6 monrhts, 6 months. i’ll he here for a total of 9 months. but i’ve already

been here for 6 months. and i’ve realized how much my life really sucks. i

only know 5 peopler here, but there names only 5, i’ve been ehre for 6 months

and i only know 5 people that i can actually go up to and say, hey you wanna

go hang out some time. only 5, i’ve been here 6 fucking months. I don’t know

why i’m like this. i want to meet people, i want to go out more, i want to

live my life. but i think that as long as i’m stuck in this closet, as long

as i’m stuck with these people. that i won’t be able to live my life the way

i want to. 6 months. on march 8 i’ll have known danny for 7 months. i’m pretty

sure that’s the day. yet i only know him as a voice a personality, and i love

both of those, i love his voice and his personality. but i don’t know what

he looks like. i don’t know what i truely feel for him, is it true love, or

is it just lust? i don’t know. i hope it’s triue love. I always say that it’s

what’s inside that counts. and i believe that. as much as i can. i try to

live by that. but we all know that that’s not always the way it works out.

I think about suicide alot. it’s not just recently either, for years i’ve

been thinking about suicide. and in a way i think i’m slowly killing myself.

by limiting what people know about me and the emotions that i show. when jo

died over a year ago now, i didn’t cry until the next day at school. it was

two days before my birthday that she died. two days. as i sti here tyrping

this i’m crying now. but then i didn’t cry until the next day at school. i

remember it. i was in the computer lab and one of the servers had crashed

so i was in the server room working on it. and i just sat there looking at

the screen. and Mrs. Houseman came in and closed the door allitte ways and

asked me what was wrong. and all i could do was cry. i juse sat there and

cried. it was two fucking days befor my b-day. we had gotten jo 9 years earlier,

on my b-day. when my greatgrandma died. i didn’t cry then either. that was

a long time ago. i was young and i don’t think i understood. during the summers

though i remember we would go to the nursiing home with my grandpa and just

hang around with her. we would spend the days there playing in her wheel chari,

my cousin and i racing each other up and down the hallways. god how i bet

she loved to see us there. but when she dies, i didn’t cry. why, i don’t know.

my life. what is the meaning of life. what was man put here on earth to do?

why are we here, why are we who we are? i don’t know, i don’t think anyone

knows. What makes the starts shine, what makes this computer work> what

makes us love, what makes us hate, what makes. what. What makes us live and

what makes us die. Why did matthew sheppard die, and why did i cry for him,

when i couldn’t even cry for my own great grandmother, or my lobing dohg of

9 years? why do i cry when movies have sad endings? i don’t know. Why do i

continue to support an orignization that, if they knew who i really was, they

would kick me out on the spot? an orginaization that i so love, and one that

is currently trying it’s hardest to get ME to come and work for it? why do

i love it so much, and why does it hate me so much>? All these why’s? and

not a single answer. why, why, why. When italk to danny, it makes me so happy.

i feel like there’s a part of me missing, a huge part, and when i talk to

him, that part is there. It’s makes me so happy to hear his voice. sometimes

when i’m on the phone withi him, i’m holding back all these tears, tears of

joy, that he is there. someone i can talk to, someone that i love. I don’t

really know him at all, i know his voice, i know some of his personality,

but i don’t really kow *him* do i? liek the songs goes, “on the telephone

line i can be anyone, any hieght, any age i wanna be” i so wish i could

meet him and see who he is, get to know him in person. i do love what i know

of him now. and think that if we were to meet in real like, i hope we would

get along. But oh, so do i want to meet him. I would do anything to get to

see him. “This journal has become a litany of my complaints. Am I really

this whiny? I really should try and write something more positive, Oh well

maybe tomorrow” — Melanie’s “QaF” Character Journal.

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