Journal (August 23)

Why can't I be loved? Romantically loved. Is there something wrong with me?

Maybe I don't deserve love. Maybe I will never deserve to be loved. It's all about the age.

I fell for him hard. But he doesn't even return the littlest of romantic love. I know he isn't ready.

I tell him that I will wait for him forever. And it is true. I don't want anyone else but him.

He is my everything. He is all I have ever wanted in a man.

I know I am a fuck up. I know I will never be good enough. But it hurts. My heart breaks when he says something about his and my age.

I want to just hide again, to go back into my shell. He makes me happy. He truly does. He does so much for me without realizing it. He is so amazing.

We spend time together by playing Grand Theft Auto 5 online. Or we watch movies together. He has shown me so many movies that I actually like. He helps me when my anxiety becomes too much or when I become mad and need to calm down. He helps when my depression comes back. Although I wish he would hold me to help me more, he may not be ready for that. I never want to push him to do something he doesn’t want to do or is not ready for. I know that I always sound like a whiny person. I have been hurt so many times in my life. I may be young but I love. I love a lot. And all that happened in the past was I got hurt. Every single time.

I would keep it all bottled up and never show how much I was hurting. I still do that. When something triggers me to become sad, I just bottle it up and become void of emotion. Although he knows me so well. He knows when it happens. He can instantly tell when I am void of emotion. I try to not do it much so he doesn’t worry.

I see him able to give hugs to his family just fine or even tell them that he loves them. When I catch it, I can feel my heart break into a million pieces. I want to cry but don’t. I go and sit down and distract myself so he doesn’t see. I don’t think he knows about that.

One night, when he was falling asleep, I told him I love him. He said, "I love you too." But I know he didn’t mean that. He was half asleep not knowing who he was saying it to. I went to the restroom and cried. I couldn’t help it. He doesn’t love me. I don’t know if he ever will. As much as I hope he does, he most likely won’t. He will most likely fall in love with someone way better than me. Someone who is skinny and who helps him more than I do. Who has her life figured out.

I am just a fat 20-year-old. Still living with the parents. And who gets depressed a lot. He shouldn’t care about me. He shouldn’t worry about what I feel, or even if he hurt me or not. He shouldn’t worry about feeding me.

When I am in my void of emotion, I don’t want to eat. I won’t get up and go make food. I will just lay down.

He goes and makes me a plate to make sure I eat. Even if I don’t want to. But he cares and doesn’t want me to starve myself.