It's been a week since I've seen you and it's making me want to strangle myself not knowing how you're doing.

What made me fall for you?
Was it your eyes?
Your incredible sense of humor?
Your freckles?
Your dimples?
Your **** eyebrows?
The way your hair falls into your face when you shake your head?
The way your nose crinkles when you laugh?
The way you make me unknowingly blush without even doing anything?
Tell me.
Because I'd really like to know.

Most of the time I'm not usually bothered by the fact that my love for you will forever be unrequited. But on some nights,the thought of not being able to know what it feels like to hold your hand,to not know what your lips taste of,to never know how fast your heart beats when our eyes meet,to never know what it feels like to have my hand on your chest as we watch some corny movie, these thoughts keep me up at night. And it breaks my heart to bits.

It's been a month.
I step outside where the breeze hits my face like a splash of cold water.
I look to the ground,the soil still a little damp from the rainfall the night before.
I start to walk around.
Nearby I see a lake.
I ignore the feeling of my heart pounding and walk closer to it.  
The water looks inviting.
I stare at my reflection in the water;my eyes look tired.
I tear my gaze away and stare at the sky.
I close my eyes,breathing in the air and living in the moment.
I step into the lake,the water getting soaked into the shoes that mom got me last week for my birthday.
I keep walking further into the lake and stop at a halt,the water already up to my chest.
I turn around and watch as my mom gives my dad a kiss on the cheek upon his arrival from work.
A little smile finds its way onto my face as I let myself fall into the lake,erasing my existence from the world,hoping to find myself in the darkness.

People ask me,
"Why do you write?" or
"What inspires you to write?"
My answer is fairly simple.
I say, "Myself".
I don't mean it in a bragging way,but in more of a selfless way.
I write about what I am not,what I wish to be,
I write about what I wish to say to the world,andwhat I wish to scream out loud.
My words paint a pretty picture.
Where I can play a part I've created,a perfect soul.

I hate being judged.
Just the feeling of it makes me anxious.
I can't stand in big crowds without feeling suffocated,
I constantly have to lie whenever I'm asked to go out because I don't like the feeling of people staring at me when im walking down the streets,
I hate talking to strangers.
Its not that I don't like people,I just constantly have this small voice in my head saying that people will judge me.
It burns me.
It burns and it hurts.
It hurts that I'm unable to do things that I love.
It hurts that I get to see people enjoying their life while I'm sitting at home trying to deal with yet another panic attack,
It hurts that I can't turn to anybody who will understand what I'm feeling.
I want it to go away.
I don't want to deal with anxiety anymore.
I just want to love myself.
I want to look at myself in the mirror and be able to reassure myself,
To tell myself,
That everything is going to be okay.

Saying goodbye kills the hope of meeting again.
And who knows?
We might meet again.