New Year's Day.
2:49 am.
It hurts to know that all you see me as is some depressed person. I didn't know that you even thought that of me. I can't deny being sad nor can I deny being overly emotional and melodramatic. But I'm so much more than just some depressed person. And if, after four and a half years of knowing each other, if that is all you think of me, well, then I am not so sure I want to even talk to you.
I know those who don't know me see me as someone who is just in need of therapy. But I do smile more than I cry. And my lows have gotten to be farther apart rather than some long, drawn out sequence. I don't understand how you don't see that. I don't understand how you think your comments aren't mean and hurtful and, well, scarring. It's like Mr. I Hate Led Zep all over again. It's like...a denial of our friendship, because you would know that I'm more than just a "fricking depressed person." You would know that I've tasted happiness and that I've smiled a real smile. You would know...at least, I thought you would have known. But then, I'm turning out to be wrong about many things lately...
