So normally I'm good at keeping myself occupied. I mean these minutes only come once, might as well make the best of them. Right? Right. But lately it's been hard. I mean I've always been a bit more grown-up than all my friends. I care about the world around me, and try to know what's going on. And I've gotten use to the whole I'm older than I am... I think. And I don't recent my friends enjoying their lives. Their young lives. I don't begrudge them for having great childhoods, childhoods they talk about rather than terrible ones that they hide from. I'm not jealous that they haven't seen the worst of the world, that they can be young. And I certainly don't wish them to stop--enjoying our young age that is. But they aren't growing up. At all. It's like they're stuck in the 6th grade, when I met them. I realized at while ago that my friends probably aren't the best suited for me. But I love them to much to get new ones. And I'm not really sure why I love them so much. They aren't even that great of friends, most of them. And maybe it's my fault. I don't really let them be great friends. I'm a shy person... and I don't let them in. Hell I probably wouldn't have even told them Pete killed himself if he hadn't had contact with Britt. Even tho it nearly killed me, learning that news. And for months all I could think about was all the blood. I couldn't close my eyes with out remembering. I KNEW! I had KNOWN for weeks. Every single detail. And I ignored it... because I was mad at him. I completely let him die because I was mad at him. And they don't know that. I just told them, at the end of school last year, that I have dreams. They don't know I dreamed about him tho. That I let him die. They don't know how I will forever live with that guilt. But this so isn't the reason I started writting this entry. I mean yeah, I was screwed up about the whole thing with Pete and they kinda just... well didn't do anything impressive to help me, which started the whole thinking about how maybe, I don't have the greatest friends. But hell. I'm there for them at that all that matters, right? Anyway... I started this entry to say I was bored. Because I am. And for the shock of my life, I can't seem to unbore myself. And it's been this way for a while now. I need someone who I can actually talk to. About stuff that matters. To me. To the world. In general. I know some one who I can talk to. But he's shy, maybe even shyer that I am. We could be great friends... or the sort of acquatinces that would be amazing if they were together (in friendship), but just are to idiotic, shy, or embarassed to do anything about it.