Fucking A.....

God.
My stomach muscles are all in knots and tangles. It HURRRRTTTTSSSSS.
Ah well.
Not sure how to describe what is going on, so I suppose I should just spit out the newest change in my life: I no longer believe in True Love.
Yeah, a lot of people have gotten extremely pissed at me for that. I don't get why. I mean, it is kind of obvious that it doesn't exist anymore. People cheat, people's marriages break, relationships rarely last more than three months to two years. People are so insensitive to others now. I just don't think it CAN exist. Mostly because of the heartbreaks.
The first one came after camp in September 2009. Michael Clark, one of my best friends, broke my heart. And badly. I wanted to kill myself because I thought that he was the one. I began to heal after a while, with the aid of Stuart Erickson, whom I really got to know that same year. By March 2010, he and I were dating. And by mid May, we were over. The breakup was messy and awful, and not only did it leave it's own bloody wounds, it opened up the ones from Michael too.
Then came THE ONE. Shawn Fowler. A god in his own right. I loved him with every fibre of my being. I surrendered my body to him one night, and within months, he left me too. July 17th was that dark day.
Wesley came into the picture. He seemed so wonderful. I began to fall in love with him.
And then he told me "I want to focus on my relationship with God." I know that it was a line. He didn't want me. I know he did not intend to hurt me like he did... but nevertheless, I was kicked while I was already down. And that was the heartbreak that ripped me apart. All of the wounds from the last 3 heartbreaks were ripped apart again, worse than ever.
It's been three weeks. I am not healing.
There are a million other things that come into play too, one of them is the fact that I have never been allowed to express my anger fully.
Mom and Dad have always demanded that I be respectful and rational when I am angry, or not to express my anger at all, for my anger disrupted the rest of the family and no one wanted to hear it. Since it is impossible for me to be rational and respectful when I am angry, I have been forced to bottle it up.
As the stress from this last school year began to pile up, all of the 17 years of frustration began to come out. People began to judge me, saying that I had a good life and I shouldn't be complaining. When the simple fact is, I couldn't take it anymore! I was suffering inside and no one cared, or cares, enough to figure out the whole story. They just JUDGE. And it REALLY pisses me off.
If only they knew what was really going on...