Ranty Pants

I can't tell anyone how I'm feeling. Anything they'll say to me, I've heard it all before. They can't do anything for me. I'm putting my blood, sweat and too many tears into my algebra class and it's getting me nowhere. I exhaust myself walking around campus and between bus stops and I'm still unhumorously fat.

I exercise kindness and patience in dealing with my depressed and junk-food addicted father and he keeps hurting me, my family and himself. My mom seems content to sit back and watch him eat himself into a diabetic coma. I know that isn't what she WANTS, but she definitely isn't proactive in this situation.

I keep thinking I have some friends that maybe I can't count on in dire times, such as tonight. I'm so incredibly foolish. It's so easy for them to say they're there if I ever need them but when the time comes when I'm crying myself hoarse and ready to die they are unreachable.
My boyfriend is so wonderfully handsome and gentle, but he never comes to my rescue. All that he can offer is a text message saying "I'm sorry." What the ruddy hell are you sorry about? Sorry that you never spend time with me? Sorry that you suffer from a seizure disorder? Sorry that you have a monstrous hold on my heart?
Don't be sorry. Just kiss me and make it all better. Make the storm clouds go away and bring me some sunshine. I need to be held and know that I can count on you when it really matters.

Now, I need some sleep. Only nine hours now until I have to leave the house to catch my bus back to life.