Dear Ms. Leading,

I regret to inform you I've fallen out of lust.
It must be so hard to understand.
Did you really think me a fool enough to play along?
And make believing everything you said was true
Push your pouting lips on other unsuspecting lovers

The Dear Hunter


Some people just aren't meant to have fun lives and fun jobs.
Some people are meant to share the weight of burdens of the world.

Unfortunately, I'm starting to believe that I'm one of those people.

For some reason, when people meet me, they automatically trust and confide in me.
Just about everyone I meet feels a strong connection to me.
At this point in my life, (as I turn 22 today) I've come to accept this.
One of my friends and I have a running joke that we're "empaths," people that actually experience other people's emotions. Not really a joke when it's your reality.

The medication I have been on lately has numbed me a bit, taking the extreme emotions I feel down to a normalized level. In a couple of months, the dose will only increase.

Should I be normalizing these feelings?

The other night, as I sat on the stairwell my friends smoke cigarettes on, I realized way more about myself than I wanted to acknowledge. I don't believe I'm worthy of being loved. I've known this about myself for a while, but I've never heard it from a friend, let alone heard it out loud.

I cried. It was the first good, solid cry I had in 2 months, excluding the cry I had during the season finale of grey's anatomy last week.

Then I had a cigarette.
And drank too many Sparks.
Spent one of my remaining nights of spring 2009 with the graduated seniors.
And slapped my friend in the face with a hamburger patty.

Last night, I went to Sonic and ate my feelings, watched a zombie romantic comedy called, "Boy Eats Girl," and fell asleep to the sounds of the Daily Show in my friend's bed.

I think I grew up a little last night.

Happy Birthday to me.
Happy Birthday to me.

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