I don’t know if it’s just me, but some lonely nights are inexplicable. I just all of a sudden feel this pang in my chest that makes me want to cry when there’s really nothing to cry about. I feel this desire to bury myself under bed covers and stay there until I’m the slightest bit okay. I suddenly want to drink gallons of coffee (though that’s not entirely new) to ease the horrible feeling that consumes me. It makes me want to shut everybody out and just be alone, though I’m positive being alone wouldn’t help.

I can’t be sad. I can’t be sad when there’s no reason to be. I can’t cry about nothing, can I? That’s bizarre. My mind tells me I can’t... But I am. I am sad, and it’s not the kind of sad I can tell you about, because I myself don’t even know why or how or where to start the explaining. Maybe it’s because of my hormonal moodiness, or my sensitivity, my being emotional, I don’t know. Whatever it is, I hate it. I hate how my day can go from perfect to dreadful. I hate how I can turn from outrageously happy to inexplicably lonely in a matter of seconds. I hate how I have EVERY REASON to be happy, but I’m not. Instead, I’m here, sulking like a big fat loser.

My loneliness is contagious, too. People who try to cheer me up only end up being sad too. I’m like a leech sucking the life out of everybody around me. And I hate myself for spreading sadness. If anything, I want to make people happy, not the opposite. Never the opposite. Sometimes, no amount of cheering up can make me feel okay, and I’d totally understand if people would give up on cheering me up. I am an emotional wreck that needs professional help.

There must be something wrong with me. I don’t know. I’m too sad to even care. Too sad to even be. And what’s sadder is I don’t want to be sad, but I am! It sucks, really. You might think I’m crazy, and in this case, I can’t blame you.