Journal
Finn is all I think off and all I breathe at this point. it's getting rather scary. The last time I was attached to someone like this it was with Mia Thompson. She was an ordinary girl and I was a teen actor. She liked ordinary boys and I liked her. I was like a dog chasing my own tail cause the Mia I wanted was one I had conjured up. Perhaps the Finn I wanted was a Finn I conjured up. I wanted to run away from the mansion at that thought. Many a time I find myself starting believe I'm rather boring. Everyone at this mansion has a story, I've got nothing. After a while, I fear Finn won't be interested in me. After all who could like a dull boy like me right? It's all rather hazy right now.
I'm not sure 'we' would last. I mean love never lasts. They say it's forever ever, but is it? Is that why dad slept with all those women? Is that why mum did it back to him and married again? I don't know...nothing is certain. We're all bound to die, I guess that's the only thing that is certain. Maybe I want certainty. Maybe I need certainty. This thought brought about a few actions I'm not proud of. It had been two weeks that me and Finn had been going out. And it had been two weeks since I cut. Now across my arms I painted a bloody picture. I pray no one will find out. I searched my suitcase for loose but covering sweater. This sweater would hide my master piece from the cruel judgmental world. The world that would never understand or appreciate my art. This sweater would keep me from hurting Finn and our relationship. He would probably dump me if he found out he was dating a pathetic boy like me. These thoughts keep me awake. These thoughts keep my tears falling off the brink of my eyelids. These thoughts give me just enough pain to know I'm still alive.
