I ended up at the local library. Crying. In a couch, reading a book of poems called Anxiety.

I'm not sure I can handle this anymore. This life of misery of anxiety of having almost never been touched. Never held a hand. Maybe once for a second 4 years ago. 

I have so many things I have to do in order to survive this life.

I just want someone to hold me.

I don't wanna get on the bus now

Pack all my stuff 

and put in this new room of mine

hunting for feelings every second of  the time