t's amazing how the one thing that brings you so much pleasure can in turn bring about the most excrusiating pain. i wonder if it's really even worth it anymore. does the happiness really make the pain alright? does it balance out in some strange way? does the pain taint the happiness or just make it more special? I give up who i am to become part of something more only to have myself ripped out and placed back outside the ring, looking in at what i was once, and still seeing myself there. but i'm wilting, like so many dried flowers. becoming fragile and discolored. i can't stand to be on this side of the glass looking in. but i can't get through. i wonder how it will be when i'm gone for good.