Blank Space

I just wanted to write. That's all really. I have no idea what I'm going to write about. I guess I'll write about a sad thing and then ease into a happy thing.

Sad thing: Mommy and daddy hate me.

I know, I bitch about this all too much. But it is a pain that doesn't go away with time. It hurts more as time goes on, honestly.

I thought things were okay. But that's how it always is. Things start to become "okay" and then it instantly pops right back into "fucking awful."

I didn't hear from my mother for a long time. I kept making plans for them to come visit my apartment but they kept bailing. So I gave my mom a call. She sounded so displeased to talk to me. It felt like I was talking to a soulless body. She handed the phone to my father so he could ask me something about my taxes and he didn't sound too pleased to talk to me either.

It was just this overwhelming feeling that they felt disappointed in me. Like talking to me was painful and horrible for them. It made me think about death.

I know, morbid. Death is on my mind a lot. I constantly feel like I'm going to die soon. For real. It's horrifying. And it scares me more to know that my family really doesn't contact me.. ever. How long would it take for them to notice I was missing? Weeks, I'm sure.

In a totally serious tone I said to my coworker, "If I ever randomly stop coming to work.. please look into it. You guys are the only ones who would know that I'm missing."

She agreed to send a search party.

Moving along. Happy subject:

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I literally stared at the screen for 15 minutes and couldn't think of anything.