Are You Leaving Too?

I could tell you a million things.

I could tell you I am sad and that I don't know what I am doing sitting in a blindingly bright hallway, crisscrossed legs with a laptop balancing and all these thoughts in my head and tears in my eyes that I can't seem to shake.

I'd tell you that maybe me heart does have a hole in it, because why else would it hurt so much?

Is there a surgeon to fix this type of loneliness? 

If you asked me for a reason, I would tell you that I have one, I just am unsure of what it is.  And maybe there isn't a reason, but wouldn't it be easier if there was?

I could tell you that my life just got harder but not because of any physical reason that you could see, but just because I felt like the weight I slept with on my shoulders was making me far too sore to blink.  

And I'd tell you that maybe I'd had enough, at least for a little while. 

I talked to him, thinking that there were maybe breaks to be had, in between all the pain and the heartbreak that I'd felt.  That maybe there were times when steady things were happening, even if only for a few days, but he said he'd never seen such a thing.  There is always pain, no matter the routine and no matter the amount of college credits you thought would make you and your parents happy.  

There is always pain.  

There is always pain.

And my expectations don't line up with my reality.  

I don't wake up in the morning feeling the same, I wake up feeling much differently.  Can anyone ever wake up the same way, with the same aspect on how your life isn't like a fairy-tale, but instead a nightmare?  Vice-versa? 

I woke up this morning feeling like maybe it wouldn't snow.

But it did.

I woke up thinking that maybe today would be different, finally.  That after all the things that I piled on, only from the thoughts of my past, haunting me as I slept, that the reality of my current situation wouldn't seem so bad.  But it is.  Because I am not who I wanted to be.  I wanted to be this beautiful girl with fantastic dreams and she would accomplish them.  This girl that denied there was darkness creeping around every corner and feeling that the weight on her shoulders was something to be brushed off.  

But I am not. 

And I cannot.

If you asked me for a reason, I would say, "It's snowing."  

If you told me you loved me, this very second, I wouldn't believe you.  Lies are told best in the dark of night.  

And I feel this soul crushing loneliness, but who have I to tell?