diary-- i didn't do a single fun thing this weekend. in fact, this weekend was completely awful. it was like because i thought the week was bad, the weekend had to prove it was even worse. i don't want to be friends with cassie anymore. i'm sick of her. i'm sick of her telling me how much she cares about me, and then she doesn't talk to me for a week. i'm sick of her telling me--promising me--we'll do something, and then blowing me off for this or that reason. i'm sick of her just wanting to have fun when i need to cry on her shoulder. i'm sick of everything in her life being more important than me. i'm sick of begging her to listen to me. i'm sick of calling her because she never thinks to call me. i'm sick of her being so dense she can't even figure out when i'm upset with her. she's my "Best Friend Forever," and i just want to tell her to go to heck. but i'm not supposed to "make rash decisions when i'm depressed." i'm supposed to "forgive seventy and seven" times. i'm supposed to "be assertive; tell her how you feel!" blah blah blah. they don't realize how much i've been hurt by her. i have NEVER seen a human being care less about her best friend. how could anyone watch someone they suppposedly love go through what she KNOWS i'm going through, and not even try to help them? i don't know. i'll probably end up putting this all behind me and forgiving her again and hoping things will get better. which is stupid. because i've known her six years and she hasn't changed a bit. she's not gonna start caring how i feel. she's not gonna start calling me up to see if i'm okay--or even just to chat. she's not gonna make room for me in her busy life. if i want in, i have to wedge myself in her schedule at a convient time (for her, of course.) sigh. i was reading a really good book today, and i didn't even enjoy it... that didn't make sense. what i mean is, i was reading a book that i knew i would normally ADORE, but that good-book feeling wasn't there... there wasn't any room to enjoy the book when i felt so hopeless and sad. i hate my life. i mean, i really have tried HARD to think of something i enjoy, something positive in my life; even just a tiny bit good... there isn't anything. not a single freakin' thing. i wish there was a hole somewhere i could climb into. i'd curl up in a ball, close my eyes, and never come out again... did i mention i hate my life? because, i really, really, really, really do. --lisa ann