For Free

Going to counseling today. I need to bleed myself dry of my boy addiction. Liz says she's not worried about me; I'm just on hiatus. My ridiculous self-esteem level has become visible to me in the last few days. The question of happiness is not so well hidden when I am alone so much. Or, I am caused much pain by the very fact of myself, and having no one around to mask it with, I feel much more unhappy than I usually do.
And there's this fucking mec who is driving me nuts. Absolutely nuts. He's not really even doing anything, but my little mind gets so wrapped around everything that I implode everyday from the stress of it. I absolutely implode.
It really only makes me think I'm fucking sick in the head. That no one would ever want to date me, which is true. I just don't know who I am anymore. I always thought I knew; I was so wrapped up in things that it was easy to say that. But I don't know anything. I don't even know what it is that I really want to do with myself next summer. Not even in a hypothetical sense, like I could do whatever I wanted. I can't even dream up the one thing that would make me happy.
I think it is the farm, but I question whether or not that is because of the people all around there or if it is my time to myself there. Really, its the only thing I can think of; going to a farm in France by myself, learning French, eating good food and meeting good people. But where is the me in that? Where is the me? Who the fuck am I?
I can't think of any singular activity that I could fully commit myself to next summer that would just be me, alone, in silence, enjoying myself. I can't picture the silence. I can't picture any of it. Every song, every goddamn movie is a story of people together:
and when you were a kid you were king of all the carrot flowers
and holy rattle snakes that fell from the sky...
this is the room one afternoon when I knew I could love you
and sit above singing down into your soul
into that secret place where no one dares to go