I feel trapped sometimes. Like a hypocrite. I love my room. It’s metallic blue walls, my bed and every knick knack that clutters it up. I want to leave. I want a place of my own… where I can cook my self dinner and eat it in my bed watching tv or a movie. I want a place that says “Sara lives here.” I want to be on my own. I’m so tired of being lonely. I hate coming home from work and desperately checking to see if anyone has left me a message. I hate when my phone rings and I rush to see who it is. I miss everyone so badly. I want to stay home. Hide in my room and do nothing at all. Really nothing… I want to go out, to the movies or the bar, or bowling or to the mall. I want to laugh and talk and do stupid things for no good reason. I’m tired of not knowing what to do. I change my clothes at least three times before I leave the house. I ask advice from strangers. I let time and circumstance make my decisions for me. I give in… or give out… at all the wrong moments. I’m strong when I need to be weak, and weak when I need to be strong… I’ve always been the wrong girl in the wrong place at the wrong time. I’m tired of just getting by. I should have failed out long ago.