The Crinkle of a Life Being Crushed

It's times like this that I want to scream. Scream at the top of my lungs at you. And you. Both of you. 

You didn't tell me anything. 

No one ever tells me anything.

You know what I did during history?

I cried.

I put my head down in my arms and cried. 

Then the teacher told me I could escape to the restroom and I cried more there. More and more and more.

How could you?

Even Sophie, who I am not the best of friends with, told me that much. 

What, you want me to stop everything that I am doing and check up on you? To ruin my fun just so that I can know?

I'm always the last to know things. No one ever tells me anything. And I only find out by eavesdropping, or they tell me last. The very last.

I feel like I am losing this fight. I can't convey to you how much the weight of everything is crushing me. You misunderstand it. I hate it when people misunderstand me. Anything about me. Especially when I am pouring my heart out into a glass jar for people to view.  

I ended up pouring it onto someone who can do nothing. Who doesn't understand anything. And who probably doesn't even care. That upset me, so I turned again, further. To a different person who is so far away yet closer than what is becoming of this. 

Stop leaving me all alone. I don't want to be alone.