FRACTURE

The day after tomorrow is my final exam. I don’t think I’ll pass. I don’t even know where to start looking for important questions in the book, since it’s my first time really opening it. For most subjects, I still don’t even know which chapters are included in the syllabus or how many there are.

Sometimes I feel like it would be better to have someone to talk to—but I can’t. I don’t talk to anyone. I stay at home all day, locked in my room, sitting on this same chair. My butt hurts. No, really… it does. I don’t know why I’m wasting my time like this. It doesn’t feel like it will help me anyway.

I really wish I could have fun, but I just can’t. Maybe growing up alone for so long left something behind in me—a kind of barrier that keeps me from enjoying things. Now, even when I try to have fun, I end up disliking it. I feel angry, or at least irritated, when someone is kind to me. Sometimes it almost makes me want to cry.

Or maybe it’s not that I hate fun. Maybe I just can’t accept new feelings easily—something refreshing, something warm. Maybe I just can’t accept being loved, because I don’t think I’ve ever felt that “lovely” feeling before—not even once in my life. And I still wonder…