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Sometimes I feel like I don't matter...As if I'm a vaguely amusing toy, to be played with when there is nothing else to do, and to be tossed in a dusty corner when something more amusing turns up. It truly hurts me at times, though some days I stoically endure it, not minding especially. But not knowing how to act, what to do, it seems I lash out to protect myself from the hurt I know is coming. I envy beautiful people, terrible, awful envy, because I believe sometimes that even if I were to discover someone who should always want to be with me, they would not linger if a lovely person beckoned their hand. Physical beauty isn't everything; but I sadly lack a beautiful personality, or a clean, pure soul. Even my emotions are tortured things; I can never tell if I am truly glad or merely pretending. It feels as the physical embodiment of a lie must feel, if there is one. But I can't give up. It is impossibly difficult at times, but do die without having tried to live is to die the death of a coward.
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