Pure Frustration ((at myself))

I'm frustrated. I miss being sixteen not because it was the time I was between manic happiness and falling apart, but because it was the height of when I could hang out with my friends.

I'm frustrated because they're all doing different, important things with their different, important, incredible lives. I miss them, I miss them and I want to hang out with them, but what right do I have to hang out with them when they're so incredibly busy?

I'm frustrated because no matter what I do, I'll always want to hang out with them, but they might not want to hang out with me. I love them and care about them all so much, but I'm not as great as them, I don't have the right to be around them. I'm frustrated because whenever I'm busy, they're suddenly all together, without me.

I'm frustrated because the conversation seems to die when I enter a call, I'm frustrated because they're all incredible, beautiful people. I want to hang out with them, but they're not here.

I'm frustrated because I can't even muster up the courage to tell any of them how I feel, how I want them to be there with me. I don't want to bother them, I  don't want to face the idea that things are ending, I don't want to let them go, but I don't want to hold on to them if they don't want me to. I don't want to suffocate them.

How terrible is that? that I can talk so freely about this on something as anonymous as blog rather than just admitting to them how much I care about them? I  don't want to suffocate them, I just want to be their friend. 

I don't know, I know this is bad, I just needed to vent, sorry.