And So It Goes

So, I haven't written much lately, as if you hadn't noticed. I don't know why exactly. It could be because I'm so exhausted at the end of the day I just don't have the energy or mindfulness to type out anything admirable or worthy of reading. It could be because I just don't have anything to say. Or my silence could be the symptom of a much deeper problem. I find myself struggling so much harder than I thought necessary to find scraps of authenticity in my life. It is always so easy to slap on a smile and make nice to people, but I wonder if, in constantly doing that, I've purposely shut myself off from people. And I don't know what makes me more miserable, the fact that my life feels so entirely artificial or the fact that I prefer it that way because I'm afraid of what I might find if I go any deeper. I DO know that I hate where I am, in this middle ground, in this lifeless state. I know that I'm unhappy and don't want to be but am not in a rush to help things along. I know that I hate looking in the mirror because I cannot stand what looks back. I know that there are things from the past three years that I wish I had attempted or done differently, at the very least. I know that I'm graduating in 7 months, packing my things and moving across the country on a dream and a prayer. I know that I deperately want someone to fall asleep next to every night and am afraid of never finding him. And I know that I don't know a lot of things, including who I am, and don't even know where to begin finding answers. .
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