Something about just sitting here alone makes me wonder about what life could be like. I think about when I roleplay with my characters and how I live my life through them in a way. It kills me that I have to do that because I don't actually have a decent enough life. It kills me when she talks about her boyfriend and how she might love him and how he told her that he loved her the other day. It kills me when I see them kissing and hugging and giggling together while I'm sitting on the recliner just to their right. I want my own life. A life I can call my own and say that I lived it rather than wasting it away while I watch other people live. It kills me that he likes me, that I could have a life with him but I can't because he's comfortable with the girlfriend he has now. I want to yell at him. Grab him by the shoulders and say, you're crazy. She's a bitch to you, I could do so much better.
All of this kills me. I can't take it.