Musings.

I can't remember hating myself this much since I was in seventh grade and dissolved into tears for a few hours because I hated how I looked with my glasses. This time is different, and the circumstances make more sense, but I can't get myself to cry. It's strange how, over the years, I've seen myself crying (not other people, just me, because I should know better) as a weakness. Now, when I want to, I can't. I've even tried prodding my eye, and there's no tears. It's weird how I can miss something I used to hate, and hate something I used to be proud of.

My consolation is that this too, shall pass. I just hope it's soon. And that I'm right.