I don’t exactly know why I start to write this essay. Perhaps it is because I found that my communication skill is quite awful. Minds are mess, which makes words and sentences not be orgnized gracefully.
At this moment, I have to think about what I am going to write down and how to write it down. My wake on vocabulary is one of the several reasons. But there must be somthing more essential things behind it and I am just not able to grasp it.
However, as mentioned at the very beginning, I don’t know exactly. This essay doesn’t even have a topic or a sketch. I just wondering about somthing and put those minds down. My fingers tap on keyboard discontinuously since I have to wait for words coming out.
Oh, there is one reason I have just captured. It is because I wanna write stories. I have lots of fanciful thoughts which I can only leave in my head. Not being able to make them a fantastic novel has been a pity for years. My words are not literarily excellent. When I broke up with my ex, I couldn’t even show my sorrows properly. Sadness stays in this agile human body and keeps on whipping me.
Yesterday, it was May 7, I felt very unsatisfied. I missed my ex and wanted a talk with her. Just a talk, telling her what I was thinking and how I was feeling. I don’t really want to tell others those things deep in my mind except her, but the truth is that I can’t and she won’t listen.
I have been suffering this pain for more than one years. Somebody knows but just don’t care. My parents care but I know thay don’t know how to get alone with me in this situation, and I don’t want to make them worry about me.
I am thinking about what she means to me recently. She was, well I expected she was, my protector, savior or someone like that. I hoped that she could listen to me when I was having a bad time， though I never spoke out anything about my weakness just because of fearing making her look down on me. She was thought to be my meaning of life during those years and now I knew that was actually bacause I was in chaos, did not have a life long dream of my own and didn’t know what I should devote myself to.
I can’t keep living like this.
I keep on thinking about the goal of my life these days and find nothing. Sometimes, I think about my death which shock me when I realize that. It’s not death itself but the dying process makes me fear. After breaking up with my ex, I have only one reason that provent me for committing suicide. I don’t wanna my parents suffer it. Somethings fade gradually and I didn’t feel it. I had some goals that I had ever want to do, but they means nothing to me now. They were must before and are optional now.
Then I know, I don’t have any goals of my own. No matter goals for my parrents or my ex, they were not something I wanna do for myself. Those goals like travelling around this world, getting a good job, seem not meanningful now.
I have lost my mind. Now, I want it back.
My English is still a bullshit, it can’t make myself clear.
I am going to quit my job.
So this is heartache.
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