Wounded and regrettably not dead.

I'm sitting outside watching the birds and the cars go by, and taking some comfort from the breeze. But I want, so bad, to feel nothing. I wish I had vicoden or something.

I wish I was dead.

There's a lot I wish right now. But I should be glad that I can at least write. I can write whatever I want. It makes me feel a little better, but I've written so much lately that, like cutting, it's losing it's edge.

I have no friends. I have no family. I have nothing, and the one thing I don't want is what I do have. I have all these feelings. It's tearing me apart. I really wish I could feel nothing. I already feel dead all the time, so why can't I feel emotionless? The truth is that I feel too much. I'm so sensitive.

This break up feels like a knife in my chest. I honestly am jealous of Alex. She seems to not care at all anymore, and I wish I didn't care either.