It all started with loneliness...

There's nothing wrong with feeling loneliness...it's just...it's hard to be happy without you. You, whom I have never met, already have such an effect on me. You captured my heart long ago; you stole my breath, my thunder...irreplaceable things all, and none have returned as of yet. I'm living in the type of story I hate most, because there is nothing worth reading.

Every day is spent thinking, wondering, "If only I could, If only I were..." My lost heart is something I can still feel, and I know it is invisibly shattered beyond repair. It gives the appearance of fullness and completeness, but in truth there is little left, and like the moon as it wanes, it is disappearing. Only, this time, there will be no new moon...

I am pathetic in my feelings, and I hate that it is so. If people were Mary-Sues, I would be one of the worst. No matter what I say, what I see in myself, my self-analysis, will be considered the ranting of someone who wants attention, and maybe part of that is true. Maybe I really would do anything for attention - I, who have stood in a corner all my life. What have I ever done that is "great" and worthy of attention, of love? I laugh, because I have nothing to be proud of. I smile, because I have nothing that anyone should ever want - nothing whatsoever.

I have nothing - at all. Maybe looking for attention is my way of compensating for what I don't have.

Either way, I fail.

~Overcast