How did I miss all of this? The string of life lies tangled. Are these people really my friends? Are they really friends themselves? I am told not, it is a front. People I thought were loved are hated; people I thought were hated are loved. I feel that old tingle of self-awareness and self-consciousness creeping up on me. It seems so much simpler as words on a page; maybe that is why people keep diaries. I could leave all this behind; move to a completely new place with completely new people. But could I really leave it all behind?