I felt so heavy and absolutely hopeless.
I honestly couldn’t pray. At that moment, all I could think of is how bad of a friend I am and how depressed I was. I know it was wrong for me to let such things to go between me and God, but, I don’t know. I figured I wasn’t even listening to our teacher anymore.
And do you what the worst part is? It’s having no human companion to vent out this kind of things to. I can’t even tell my best friends. Alright, I can. But I choose not to—for I know I will cry again and again and I won’t be able to say the things I want to in the same chronology I have in mind.
But, after crying, I realized that it’s no use. I should have controlled myself. I’m not a slave of my emotions. I cheered up. And even if I wasn’t able to tell my best friends why, I figured it doesn’t matter anyway.
More importantly, when I arrived home about an hour ago, yes, I was still miserable—but I’m grateful that some people noticed how unhappy I was and tried—and are still trying—to cheer me up. Their efforts aren’t wasted, I swear.
I feel somewhat better now.