Have I Really Gone a Year?

It's been a year since I was brokenhearted in a devastatingly not good way. I remember spending this day one year ago crying and doing nothing else.

And those old wounds came back to me again today, especially as I saw people who have something in their lives that means something.

I'm scared of what's going to happen to me once I graduate because I'll have nothing really to live for, I fear.

I decided to try to assuage my situation with a firm hand. I'm going to stop moping about the fact that I'm not interesting/attractive, etc. and I'm going to go out and volunteer for the local AIDS relief organization. I feel this ardent need to give back to my community somehow, and this is a means by which I can do a great amount of good for people who need it.

There's a woman in Irish dance whom I've met several times that has lost her job. I may make bread for her on Saturday to take in.

Work and school, as always, causes stresses. Someday I hope all that I've gone through is worth it.

I need to clean my room.