Long way down

I's perfect to read"A long way down" by Nick Hornby when you're feeling really unhappy. I feel better when I know that there are people so unhappy that they would commit suicide. Nick couldn't have written a better book that I could read these days.

I thought that I had some inner value. You know, I thought that I was so interesting that a guy could be interested in me. But I was wrong. Maybe I'm not that interesting. Or maybe I'm not that interesting to him. I don't know. But you feel really bad when you realise that you're not what you would like to be. I'd just like that he was really interested in me. I think he was. But he's not anymore. And I feel like I am rubbish. It's not fair. Didn't I suffer enough 'til today? For God's sake, why do I just meet idiots? Why do I just meet idiots that aren't interested in me? I'm not ugly, I'm not stupid, I'm not bizarre, for God's sake. What's the problem with me?

I guess you can realise how sad I feel. And you know, you know that there's no medicine for this. There's nothing that I can drink or eat that make me feel better. And I'd like really to die if I could.