Sometimes I wonder if I even know myself. Once Ben told me that I could not possibly be selfish because I hate myself so much. I don't know if that is true.

I know that it's difficult to balance emotions. I'm stressed out right now because I don't know where I will live when I get back from London. I'm lonely because I don't spend time with people outside of work. But I'm happy sometimes--at work, talking to Gavin, or even just reading. Yet even at those times, there is a hint of the rest... it's difficult to explain. Am I just always a little bit depressed?

I was on my way to Mozart's earlier this evening and I just randomly burst into tears and could not stop crying. I don't know why. It must be a mixture of things--the stress of the brick house, lack of friends, confusion over Ben, my house falling apart, missing Gavin--but I had to pull over in the parking lot of an elementary school and call Austin. Of all people? But I called him, and he said to give him 30 minutes. Where could I go? I went to Barnes and Nobles and immediately bought a copy of Jane Eyre. God only knows why.

Anyway, Austin met me there and we stood in the parking lot and talked for half an hour. I tried to explain why I was upset, but it was difficult. We ended up just having a normal conversation and I felt like I had kept him up past his bedtime for no reason. This I know is absurd, because I had been so so upset just half an hour before... there is something wrong with me.

And I can't decide what I want for myself. I want to be thin so I feel attractive and am thus happier in general. But what if I can't get thin? I still feel attractive sometimes, so what if I could just feel like that without losing 30 pounds? Some girls are bigger than others. Thanks, The Smiths.

I really should not be listening to Placebo right now.

I came to Mozart's to write and to calm myself with an italian soda, but all I'm doing is being angsty on my blog.