It's easier to cry over the little things -- the broken date, the petty argument, the stupid boy who didn't mean shit to me to begin with. What's happening to you is too big. Too unbridled. If I start crying over this I might never stop.
I can't talk about it. If I do people might misunderstand, think I'm looking for sympathy. I don't even know how to write this stupid blog. Because it's not happening to me. It's happening around me. It's happening to you.
I wish it were happening to me -- if it were than maybe I could control some of it, stop it from being so big and daunting. You wouldn't be able to say things like, "Look at my worthless fucking life", not if I was in control. I wouldn't let it get that dramatic. I would make all these problems small, and petty, and meaningless. If I were in control we could still be angry about the little things. And we'd be allowed to cry.
I'm sorry this is happening to you. I'm sorry I can't fix it. I'm sorry I'm not crying right now. It's not for any other reason than I can't, I swear.
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