not even I understand why I do the things I do. if I do, I'm too afraid to admit it. I think this is the core of my frustration. I can't talk to anyone about this because no one gets it and that's my fault. at least this leaves me constantly writing in my little notebook and wanting to find new things to keep me going.

I guess you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. eventually, though, I realize that some things just aren't meant to be.