When I sit down at my desk, 11:15 at night, to finally get my shit together and start writing this 500-900 word book review—not even a big deal! why can’t I seem to do anything!—I don’t start writing. Instead, I start crying.

Everything that’s going on in my head doesn’t all matter—it’s just that I’ve had this problem lately with intense daydreaming, which I think has really been hindering my motivation since it’s to the point where I literally just sit in my bed all day and think and dream. But tonight, it ended with literal tears because dream-me became real-me, the real-me that I don’t like and try to forget more often than not.

The thought of leaving Juniata terrifies me. This year, I finally have this amazing group of friends who I feel so close and connected to. We care about each other, and I feel so comfortable with them, a comfort that I haven’t felt in years, not since high school, and even then not really since elementary school when I was a carefree, sociable kid. It took me four years to get to this point, to where I can say that I have these wonderful friends that I can talk to and cry with and freak out over everything with.

Knowing that I have to leave it and start over next year, when it took me four years to feel comfortable with other people—I hate it. I hate it so much. Because I hate being sociable. I hate meeting people. I hate trying to meet people. I’m not good at it. I’m awkward and I never say the right things and I never know what to say and I’m the girl who stands in the corner looking out at everyone hoping that someone will come talk to her. But I’m not the girl whose number people ask for when they first meet her so they can text later, and I’m not the girl that gets asked to lunch or coffee or anything like that, and I’m not the girl that people want to hang out with on the weekend. I’m just the girl who’s always in the same place every day, the constant, the person you can talk to when you’re bored or when everyone else is busy.

I never really grew up much past middle school. I still get the taunts and jeers caught in my head. I still think about how hard I tried to keep my friendships going back then but all for naught, because once high school rolled around so many of them ditched me. I get caught in the ruts that middle-school-Amy got caught in, and I still get the emotional and mental breakdowns that I got in eighth grade for so many of the same reasons. I just want people to like me. I just want to like myself. I just want to know how to make friends and be happy.

It’s not that I’m entirely unhappy with my life. I’m proud of the student that I am. I have no shame about being the girl who likes to come home and browse Tumblr and watch TV instead of going out. It’s knowing I’m completely incapable of being anything else, that’s what gets me. I will always be the girl sitting on the couch on a Saturday night with no one to talk to and no one to hang out with. I’ll just always be that thirteen year old girl who knows that when the next part of my life starts, I have to start all over again and again and again. Every time I think I’m getting better, something pushes me back again. I’ll always be that girl who knows she’s always going to be alone, because she doesn’t know how to be anything else. And I’m just really tired of resigning myself to feeling this way. But how do I feel anything else?

I’ll stop posting all over Tumblr now. I went a little crazy on here this weekend/week.

  1. rieweb said: This is a very familiar feeling for me too, and I think its similar to a lot of people in the History Lounge. Because of that, I think it’s going to be a lot harder to get rid of this crew, no matter how far away from each other we are.
  2. misterbananagrabber reblogged this from amywhoisawesome and added:
    Amy-I feel exactly the same way....because I’m just
  3. amywhoisawesome posted this

NIGHTNIGHT by DEDDY