I heard this poem by the peace poets about how
The world is out there for me
And you.
About how the world is awaiting us
All the world has to offer
All the amazing and beautiful experiences,
Sights,
Tastes,
Loves.
And I could not help but break at the thought of feeling this amount of joy about what the world has to offer...
Because I want nothing more than to embrace it all and feel happy,
I want nothing more than to breathe and not have it be a deep sigh of disappointment in myself.

How I dream of traveling and embracing cultures and how I fear I will continue to be as depressed as I am here all the way over there.
how I no longer find moments of peace and solitude.
The hope is withering away.
My ambition and self love and confidence and drive,
Are becoming particles of what was once a grand masterpiece.  
And what is left,
Are the tears of opportunities, I will seize but fail to enjoy within my heart.

Who do you talk to when you need it but the person you depend on is the one who made you upset?

Is it because my depression gets worse with every day or is it because the love is withering away?

The depressing reality of having no friends can strike a chord from time to time.

It’s the little things.
Like the feeling of my head against his chest, like the look in his eyes, the comfort I find in his presence.
Like the colors of the sky, like the sounds of the night, like the sights I have never seen but soon will.
Like the feeling of love, the feeling of acceptance, the feeling of embracing anything and everything.
The feeling of finding your match, your one and only.
Enlightenment.
Like the feeling of wind in my hair, and freedom at my grasp, and power in my voice.
Like the hope for a new tomorrow.
It’s the big things.