Sadness

Sometimes I get so, so angry at my friends when I know that they're together, enjoying each other's company, while I feel like I'm rotting away in Michigan/Georgia. I remind myself that, to some extent, this is self-imposed exile, that I chose to come here over spending more time with them. It's also a selfish feeling to want other people to be as miserable as you. It's also a temporary feeling, one that will go away once I see them again.

But I am deeply unhappy. I feel very lonely in my head, and the loneliness won't decrease when I head back to Georgia. I could choose to stay home, to abandon the venture, but I really don't want to quit. It's that familiar feeling of being caught between a rock and a hard place, of wanting my cake and wanting to eat it, too. In moments like this, I feel destructive, like I just want to hurt someone (including myself). I want to punish someone for making me feel this way, even if that someone is me.