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Misfortune Events.

A lot of terrible things happen in this world.

The good and the bad are just what we divide our memories into, categorizing them into organized recollections so at any given time we can rank through those files and sought them out. We savor the happiest ones of course, because some may just be a little too upsetting to remember.

I just happened to relate to those bittersweet memories in an awful circumstance.

I don't mean to call out a pity party, but I can't ever remember being fully happy. The most I've been is content with what I've got, and what I've experienced. I do an okay job at blocking painful, unnecessary things from my mind. I wouldn't call It being oblivious, because I do acknowledge what I've gone through, but I choose to not dwell on It. There's always those days where It's all my mind shares with me, though. I am left in a corner where nothing but all my misery is displayed, and It makes me cringe, and shed into tears. Though, I hardly cry- I push back. I don't know If that's rational or not. I know I'm not alone, though. I've got this wonderful man who picks me up when I fall down named Christopher. He makes me smile so effortlessly, and he's always there for me. Always. I can't begin to say how I appreciative I am of him. Then there's my two best friends, and all they do is try to protect me, and their name are Chelsea and Tobias. They both help a lot. The fact is: you're never alone. No matter how much It seems like no one cares, there is at least one person who does. 

I won't go into detail about all my misfortune events, but It was pretty difficult for me to get past It; In fact, I'm not all that healed yet. I'm still fragile. 

It's okay not to be okay. That's what teenagers don't understand. They are pushed to their limits and have so much weight on their shoulders that they forget to speak. To listen. To seek for help. To smile. To live. They feel like being weak is such a terrible thing they fail to realize that's okay. Some lives are lost. Some lives are ruined. I wish people would be far more caring. This world can be a shit place. There doesn't need to be shit people. 

I'm rambling on pretty much, but this is such a broad topic I could keep on writing, but that would bore people. 

Some nights are made for torture, or reflection, or the the savoring of loneliness. And that's fine, too. Misfortune events happen all the time. That's how life is. But remember: it's okay to be weak.