Gerik's Non-RO Art Dump (With some RO in it)

[Zerrif]

Just a little play with bolding and italics.

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I don?t know where or how the feeling started. What scares me isn?t the fact that I wanted to get rid of it, but that it haunted me so much, and I couldn?t find a way to get rid of it. The only thing that I could think of to get rid of that feeling was death.

That wasn?t an answer. I knew that wasn?t an answer.

I remember when I saw him hug her it irked me. It really irked me. Though, I wasn?t the kind to wear my heart on my sleeve, so to speak. Sure, at times I would let people know what I really felt-- but I mostly bottled it in.

Looking back in hindsight, I have to wonder. Was it jealousy? That he was hugging her instead of me? No, that wasn?t it. I know it wasn?t that.

I think it was more pure envy about the action. How someone else got something that I wanted. That I desired. And the more I bottled that feeling in, the more I got scared of it. The more I got scared, the more it grew. I was just feeding the flames of a fire that I knew would rage beyond my control.

I still tried as damn hard as I could to not let it burn down what I had here. I smiled and just acted like nothing was wrong. The day went on.

The whole ride home was one of the hardest things of my life. I couldn?t stop thinking about that hug. How much I wanted one. How I never got one. I hated myself for it. What the hell was I expecting? Why the hell would he ever just spontaneously hug me?

God, I was such an idiot. I felt sick to my stomach. I couldn?t wait to just get home and deal with it like I usually did. Lock myself up and just write. Cathartic releases were always the best way of getting things off my chest.

That train ride home felt excruciatingly long. I remember getting into my room and stripping into a state of being comfortable and just? hating what I saw. I made my way to the bathroom, since the mirror in there gave a better reflection.

A better reflection of what I hated. And what I hated was this. What I hated was what I saw. I don?t even know how, but there was a crash of glass. Shards dug into my hand, but I was past the point of feeling pain. Just? seething hatred.

Is this what I?d been reduced to? So torn and mentally numb over something so trivial? It made me feel like I didn?t deserve what I wanted.

Compared to everyone else I didn?t have it bad. I wasn?t involved in violence, or hated. I lived off pretty well with a family that loved me, and friends to support me.

No, that wasn?t any way to think. I knew that everyone deserved happiness in life, and at that point that was all I wanted. I wanted it so bad that it hurt when other people got it and I had? well, nothing.

My mom rushed in after to wonder what was wrong. Luckily, my older brother had left water on the floor-- so I said I stepped in it on my way to shower and flailed, punching the glass.

3 stitches. They?re gone now. But the pain of that day is still present. It still hurts. It?s still scary.

Because I?m still alone. I don?t know how much longer I can put up with this sort of thing. It?s like I?m a balloon. I can contain only so much at one time, before I explode, or it sputters out. But each time you stretch it, it can hold just a little bit more. So what am I supposed to do? Even a balloon has it?s stretch limit.

I look down now and see the pen in my hand, and I just nod. The only thing I know how to do, is write. Release as much of it as I can before it makes me explode.

So here we go. Are you ready for this? The things you?re about to read aren?t going to be days full of sunshine and happiness. They?re not days that make anyone feel special, or lessons that you need to learn.

This is life.