just another weekend.

Just as I was getting into the swing of college life, as I started to feel comfortable with the campus and the people surrounding me, my family decided to go out of town this weekend and leave me to watch over the house. At first, I was sort of perturbed by this. I didn't mind so much once I got here, though. College will be there when I get back. Nothing changes that much in two days.

Anyhow, today was a slow day. It was actually really nice. I did laundry, I watched a little TV, read a little bit. Anna even came over to say hi for a little while.

Then, at one point, I was lying down on my bed, just listening to some music and all of a sudden I started to cry. And it soon dawned on me why: this weekend I've spent at my house reminds me of too many weekend I had had last year. Nothing to do. No one to see. The sun shines through windows in that strange, unsettling way, and I just felt alone. That was my life, and maybe still is my life. I have no one to talk to. No one is there to listen. My friends aren't the friends you talk to. I wish they were, but they don't want to hear it. At least, that's the impression I get. There are two people who will and want to listen, but one is hundreds of miles away and the other, well, it'd be fruitless to tell most of my problems to her. All my other friends... they don't want to hear it and I wouldn't know how to tell them.

Today I felt alone. For those moments where the sun shone through the window in that weird way, I just felt so alone. Transparent. Replaceable. Lighter than air, and if I wasn't too careful, I'd float away.