I have no idea where to begin. I need to vent. It seems like I always need to vent. I'm tired of hearing myself talk. The longer I wait to fix things, the worse they become. I don't know what to do about anything. Once again, the desperation to get out of this house has grabbed hold of me. It won't let go. When I first came back, after the summer away, I had convinced myself that their problems were not problems. I no longer know if this is true. I've let my judgment become clouded once again. On the one hand, I just wanna say fuck it, move out and be done with it. On the other hand, there's this little voice inside my head (they tell me it's called my conscience) that keeps telling me to do otherwise; to do what I know is the right thing. I'm tired of feeling morally obligated. When something so blatantly wrong, so clearly criminal is happening right before your eyes, how long can you ignore it before doing the "right" thing. What is the "right" thing? Isn't it all relative? On top of that, I feel like I can't breathe. I feel like I'm drowning and I've felt that way since he left. I mean I left..I should feel better. But he's still in my heart, and I can't get him out. Sometimes I wish I could swat him like a fly. It would be far easier. I try to freeze myself up, make myself cold and rigid so that no one can get inside. I trust very few people anymore and I think I only completely trust one. After your heart is broken, after your feelings are disregarded and you've been made to feel seemingly insignificant, it's only natural to close your heart up so that the same doesn't happen again. I don't have the same capacity to feel as I did before. I feel numb. I feel numb all the time. Situations in which I would once feel compassion and sympathy wash over me like they're nothing at all. I am a broken person. A broken soul. I don't know when (if) I'll ever be whole again. Was I ever?