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Goodness, I've never even considered starting a journal, but I suppose I should. Everything's just been so damned hectic lately. Parents' Weekend at college, my old high school chums (The ones who are now seniors) going to AWA without me...I dunno. I miss everyone so much that it hurts. I feel like they shouldn't be making memories without me. Like...if I decided to pop in on their school life now, I wouldn't be privy to all of their inside jokes, their laughter. I wouldn't belong. I miss that so much, particularly my best friend in the entire world: Gina.

...I don't think Gina and I have ever fought. We've got along in everything we've ever done. We draw together, we like the same music, we have crushes on the same voice actors (Travis Willingham and Vic Mignogna)...Heh. Kind of pathetic, but hey. It's home. God, I miss her so much. She's one of the few people who's ever really understood me, despite all my shortcomings.

I find that I've lived my life in very distinct periods. Most people can't even begin to comprehend how difficult and out-of-the-ordinary it is.

I was an accident, a conception that wasn't supposed to happen. Sure, my parents didn't mind having me (Afterwards they decided to have a third child, my little sister), but initially...they'd only wanted one. My older brother, Max.

I was born on October 24, 1989 - The exact day that the Berlin Wall came down. Popped out with a full head of hair, had my nose tweaked, and was affectionately dubbed the 'Wolf Baby'. I had a kleptomaniac sort-of-childhood. I liked to steal things. I don't know why, but it was exciting. Eventually I was caught and stopped, but...it was fun while it lasted.

In seventh grade I developed an unpleasant anxiety disorder called 'Trichotillomania'. The teachers had gotten us riled up about standardized tests and how our grades would reflect upon them and the school, and I panicked. It was terrible. I began pulling my hair out, literally, and developed an unpleasant bald spot. Of course it's all grown in now, but while it lasted there was no end to my self-consciousness.

I moved to the world of high school. Thank God I no longer had to deal with the little Catholic middle school. High school was hard. Freshman year was the easiest. Sophomore year, I almost failed math. Barely passed. That, and my best friend at the time, Nicole, walked up to me one afternoon and told me that she didn't think we should be friends anymore. Needless to say, I was utterly devastated. Why? How? When? What were the reasons, the grounds for such a sudden act? She wouldn't answer, obtusely replying that it was merely a conglomeration of little things put together. Couldn't she have told me that those 'things' irked her at the time? Couldn't she have allowed me a second chance? No. She severed all ties with me, and for the rest of sophomore year, I was alone.

Junior year. My supposed 'best friend' made out with and began dating the guy I liked, though i had divulged several times that I had a crush on him. That was hard. Particularly when said best friend convinced me via phone conversation to drag my a** over to a school dance, claiming that it would be fun-filled, and I arrived to find said best friend grinding against said crush. I left immediately. I don't remember exactly how I was able to get home that night - I had driven there, but I know that I was crying all the way back. Slamming my hands into the steering wheel, screaming at the windshield, wiping my eyes with my forearms and sniffling miserably as I pulled into my driveway. They're still dating. They went to college together. I wish them the best of luck, and bitterly hope they get herpes.

Senior year. God, that was fun. I made so many friends in the lower grades, specifically the junior class. Besides Gina (Who I only came to really know last year), I met Dan Ish (We call him Danish and he hates it) and Marta. Marta Shpytko moved from the Ukraine to study in America, and I only got to know her when I was doodling Sherlock Holmes during a free period. She walked up, poked the paper and asked if that was the illustrious detective. Dumbly, I nodded in amazement. We've ben close ever since. hell, she's the only Ukrainian I've got. Senior year held many good times, including parties with cupcakes and video games, Rock Band contests, Brawl tournaments, and attempts to cram as many people as we could onto one sofa: The Awkward Couch was born.

God, I miss them.

So [********] much.

Don't get me wrong, college is fun. It's everything I hoped for and more. I've made plenty of friends. But the trust isn't there yet. I don't really know them. It's so hard for me to trust people now - I've been trampled over so many times in the past, spending years of my life trying to make others happy. Wishing them well and neglecting my own shattered psyche. I still haven't quite put all the pieces back together, yet. I'm like a puzzle without a reference picture. I don't know what the end product will be, so I can't continue without some image in my head of who I am to become.

Hopefully I'll know soon.

I don't think I can handle this life alone anymore.