It's a bad time for me right now.

Life: short, exciting, scary, pointless, meaningful, weird

A lot of times, I don't know what the point of life is. Actually, it's a consistant nonunderstanding. I don't think anyone really knows. Maybe there is no point to life. It's all just a game. A game that no one even wins at. It's kind of a terrible situation.

Friendship: complex, futile, difficult, issues, popcicle stick theory

I feel like my friendships are built up, like a little house with exterior walls and a roof made out of tiny, thin popcicle sticks glued together. Sometimes, I have faith in myself and the other person and our relationship together. I feel like we are strong, and we'll have the ability to stand up to anything that tries to wear us down. I'm wrong.

My friendships, each in time, break at some point. Some part in the roof gets cracked in one or two spots, then three. And soon, the parts of the roof that are still okay, aren't enough to keep the roof from caving in, and the walls come apart all around it. It breaks my heart. It makes me cry.

Friendships are complex, with the constant good times, the fights, the arguements, the disagreements, the opinions, the having each other's back, the backstabbing, the lack of loyalty, the who's right and who's wrongs, the differences in each person's life. It's a lot to handle, it is a lot to try to keep together. It's compromise and it's a war, and it's backing down sometimes, and it's standing up sometimes, and it's brutal.

Everyone has their issues. Trying to fit ourselves together like pieces in a puzzle. That's what we do in our relationships. I think I have a friendship issue. Either it's me, and I am completely oblivious to the problem that I have, or I have a problem with chosing the right people to be my friend. Because while even the best fall down sometimes, the worst try to push you down farther even when you think you can't get any lower.

Family: too much, just right, straight love, everything

My family is all I have, is all I could handle having. I love each person in my family so much that I'm consistantly surprised that my heart hasn't exploded. I have the ability to appreciate every one for different things. I can't imagine being without any of them. And I think that perhaps one of the reasons I try to move so often is so that I can distance myself from them, and make it easier on me when something happens to any of them.

While I wish that I didn't have anything I couldn't stand losing, I really don't want to be without them. While I'm lonely more than I've ever noticed before, I try to be with them as much as I can. While I feel like I try to be kind and understanding to strangers and people who are possibly misunderstood, I try to be whoever my family needs me to be, when they need me separately for something only I seem to be able to help them with or through.

Love:

I don't know a lot about love. I had a dream where I was in love once. It was the most intense, overwhelmingly happy feeling I'd ever felt.

I know that I care about my family so much that it hurts when I sit down and really think about the immense quantity that I have of that feeling.

I don't know if I will ever feel fully loved by anyone other than my family. I don't know if I'll ever be able to really believe that anyone could possibly know me well enough to know whether they truly love me or not. Right now, that's what I struggle with. I don't believe people and their opinions. I can't take compliments, because I don't believe that they fully know what they're saying. I suppose I feel like everyone's too shallow to understand what's really there.

I know that I long to be loved, and I know that I have an issue with allowing anyone close enough to be able to love me. Perhaps I have a feel of being unlovable. I don't really think I do, but maybe I do. I know that love makes the world go 'round, and the world is spinning slower and slower. I try very hard to love and to spread love, but the world pushes me down so much that sometimes, I'm just trying to breathe without being squished to death. And sometimes, I get hasty with my love-mission. I get hateful and angry. Why isn't anyone helping me? Why isn't someone pulling me back up?

I'm more of a taker than a giver, I know that. I give out my heart and my feelings and my mind, but nothing else really. So that leaves me as a taker. I take all I can get. I try to get more than that, sometimes. You can say that I'll never be able to know love really until I learn to take and give equally, but I wouldn't believe that you'd know what you were talking about anyway, so your words would prove pointless to me.

Growth: so much, constant, scary, sad to me, exciting surfacely, nerve-wracking

We each grow, from the time we're little babies, when we're little kids, when we're teenagers, when we're young adults, when we're real adults, when we're elderly, when we're old. We grow and grow, and change. I knew this, I know this, most people do. I tried to embrace it without really thinking it through very much. I tried to avoid it, by figuring out who I am and why, but all the changing I forced myself through...was probably just a cover-up to avoid going through change like everyone else. I want control of change if I have to go through it. I've realized I can't control it.

My sister's pregnant, and I can't control it. I wasn't a part of that. I wasn't there for that decision. I wasn't able to keep it from happening. I couldn't plan it for her. For us. For everyone.

I changed my mind every five minutes. I changed my plan every five days. I changed my look every five weeks. I changed my friends every five months. I was in charge of change. I pushed change so change wouldn't push me. I don't like to be pushed around. I'm being pushed around. And it isn't going to stop.