I wasn’t thinking of killing myself because I thought it was the right thing to do. I was thinking of doing it because nothing felt right anymore.
Andrea S.H. (another thing I wrote in my diary)

You can surround yourself with people who love you and still feel alone,“ he said. “You can laugh with a hundred friends but still cry when you get home.”

“The problem with most of us,“ he said, “is not the lack of love. It’s the inability to understand why anyone in their right mind would want to love us.

S.Z. // Excerpt from a book I’ll never write #269 
(via blossomfully)