Okay, emo journal.

Why does shit like this always happen to me? EVERY DAMN TIME I finally get my mood back up, and I start feeling REALLY good, it gets fucked up majorly by some LITTLE SHIT.

This time, however, it's even worse. Because, typically of my emotions, my whole fucking life is an oxymoron, a mistake, something which just shouldn't BE.
We were studying oxymorons in english recently. We're talking about Romeo and Juliet, and unrequited love, etc etc. Basically, oxymorons are apparently typical of heavily over-romantic idiots who think they feel true love before discovering some better looking chick who they then actually fall in love with.

In some way, I find this represents my life a little. Well, no, not really. I'm not Romeo - I don't believe I'm 'in love' with the person you all know I'm talking about. I'm not an idiot.

But then again, I AM an idiot. How could I trust someone so much, allow myself to get so attached to them, only to have my feelings hurt when I get tossed aside as soon as someone better comes along? Why did I not see this coming? Am I really so stupid as to think someone would ACTUALLY wish to have a relationship with me, actually WANT to have me when they could choose from so many others?

Of course not. Noone will ever really 'choose' me, except perhaps those of whom I have absolutely no intention of feeling the same way about. I'm destined to spend my life, forever wandering in this sea of emptiness. There are no more fish in the sea. I'm the only person here, there's noone to help me, noone left for poor pathetic Cecily.

Back to Romeo and Juliet. I'm not Juliet either - I'm not the beautiful blonde one who shines with the light of a thousand angels, I'm not the special one, I'm not the star of this story. I'm not even one of the extras, who are able to sit with their company feeling their own emotions and not having to worry about life's terrible issues. No, I'm a silly little side character in another person's tale of romance and beauty.

I'm the Rosaline. I have the pleasure of seeing my Romeo for a few short weeks before he finds Juliet and lives happily ever after. Fuck that, I'm not even Rosaline. She was beautiful, and Romeo loved her (even if it wasn't true) for who she was, even if only for a short while.

I have no character, I have no meaning. I have no true identity without others around me. I'm a prop. I'm empty, I'm lonely, I feel so numb inside that I don't know how to act or behave. I rely on others to protect me, give me identity, make me real.

I feel so unreal. I think if I keep typing I'll start to cry again and for FUCKS SAKE I don't think I can bear that again.

Goodbye, goodbye. Parting is such sweet sorrow that I shall say Goodbye until the morrow.