Filling in gaps.

I've recently gotten addicted to the site Gumtree, which is an Australian site that you can sell unwanted or secondhand goods for. There's a story to be told with so many of the items there, though it might just be my imagination. So many wedding dresses sold to be rid of because they're "never worn." An engagement ring valued at 3000 being sold for 2250 ONO, because the seller "really just wants to get rid of it now!" I fill in the gaps of stories I don't know.
I recently had a trial shift waitressing at a restaurant. My shift was on Saturday, and an elderly man came in, and sat at a table alone, finished his meal, paid, then left. Apparently he's a regular, who comes in every Saturday night and eats the same meal at the same table with the same lack of other people. I feel sorry for him, but in doing so I feel intrusive. Do I have a right to? Maybe he does it to remember his wife, or because he wants to go out without anyone to go out with, or enjoys the restaurant and likes to treat himself... I don't know, I have no right to judge, though what I'm doing isn't judging. My gap filling mind doesn't leave room to the imagination. Sometimes when I'm sitting on a bus or a bench and can see two people conversing I'll make up what they're saying to each other. Once this led to me feeling incredibly guilty, because in my imagination I'd made a boy and a girl break up with each other. The girl half walked, half ran away crying, and the boy sat at the table with his face in his hands. There's no reason I should feel guilty, I don't dictate others lives through imagination, through filling in the gaps. Nonetheless, I do feel guilt and shame.
I become far too emotionally invested in things which should not concern me. But this doesn't really bother me.

Thankyou.

Oh god. I've just spent the past two hours looking through about a year and a halfs worth of posts and comments, the time that spanned the most emotionally exhausting year of my life. It's amazing how much things have changed since the last post I made. I can't remember feeling like what I was expressing in those words, I can't remember crying so often, I can't remember everything that happened to me spurring me towards suicidal ideation and action... I get glimpses of that occasionally now, but everything has changed. Antidepressants have worked, they were what set me on the path to feeling... better. I'd use a more imaginative word then but it probably doesn't need it- it's such a simple change, but it's a complete one. However, I know if I go off them now I might not be able to cope again.
My exams are over, I have the results. My ATAR score was 82.35, which means I can apply to any university with a reasonable hope of getting in- UWA entrance rank is generally 80, Curtin & Murdoch are 70, and ECU is 50. It's a lot better than I ever expected to do. I beat my predicted ATAR, which was around 75, and I beat my own expected ATAR, which would have been 71-72. I'm immensely shocked and feeling just a bit of pride- I mean, I don't know if it was a fluke, but I was studying about 10 hours a day at some points, and studying hard for about three weeks, so maybe, just maybe it wasn't a fluke and I actually managed to do that well legitimately.
I am loving life at the moment, and even better, I'm starting to respect myself. I'm organising a trip away with friends, a kind of leavers without all the alcohol/drugs/sex/rock and roll shitty pop music it's generally known for. There's been a few hiccups with organising, but at the moment everything is running smoothly.
I'm still with Joseph and loving him as much as ever, and because I'm not reliant on him for... well, living, then it leaves me more able to simply love and enjoy his company. I am eternally grateful and thankful to him, without Joe I know I wouldn't have made it through.
I don't regret feeling the way I did, because it's made me a more self aware person. I'm still convinced depression is something I'll continue to battle for the rest of my life, especially if I go off antidepressants, but having faced this and broken through I'm more equipped to deal with it and have more empathy perhaps, with both myself- yes, that does make sense, I'm pretty distant from myself usually- and other people who might be going through the same or a similar thing.

I just wanted to let anyone who reads know that I am okay, I'm living and living well, with not much chance of dying anytime soon. Thankyou guys, so much, for supporting me.

I have you wrapped
around my finger, but
out of choice.

I'm in control,
yet it's you
who dominates me.

I curl up and lie
To you about me,
and it sinks in.

What would I do?
If you were gone,
What is left?

No one to curl up with,
To invest my heart in,
and hope.

Your smile, so rare
I think it's imagined.
Yet I bring it.

Did you know
No matter how close,
Atoms never touch?

We touch. My eardrum finds
the forces of your heartbeat
And moulds.

My eyes seek yours,
Brown vs The State
my mind has been in.

Damages, dividends?
What do I seek?
Love. Is it yours?

Not legal, official, even preliminary.
Emotions aren't defined by bounds.
You lose me and I've lost.

I lose you
Funnily enough,
You see truth.

Joe.

I promise. I promise I promise I promise. I am so in love with you, you don't even realise. I feel so bloody down at the moment, true, but the thought of suicide hasn't even seriously crossed my mind recently. Because I couldn't bear hurting you, I couldn't bear the guilt of that, even if I wouldn't have any feelings after my death. The guilt of knowing I'd do that to you would kill me before any sleeping pills or trains. Doesn't that show I'm feeling better? Doesn't that show you've made that? I love you Joe. I love you too much to hurt you, my heart is literally fucking bursting looking at you sitting on the other end of that computer screen and sobbing. I shouldn't mean that much to you. I'm worth absolutely nothing, you're worth everything. All I am is me. And you're my fucking world. I feel so inflamed by fucking anger at myself right now because I know that what you're feeling is because of me. But I don't even care. I don't care I'm worth nothing, because I know I'm worth more than that to you, and taking anything away from you would kill me, so I won't. I promise, I promise, I promise.

I'm just a girl.

I'm tossing up between being buoyant and free and... flat, worried. It's swinging drastically between the two. I... I wish that I could just stick to an in between. I've finished school. My last day was Friday, my last proper day, Thursday. I have 11 exams ahead of me, 12 if you count my external practical for drama as one. 12 years boils down to this moment and I feel like I'm going to screw up. I don't even fucking know anymore. What am I after school? That was my identity. "Student." I was nothing, nobody else to the big world around. Just some teenager wandering the suburbs on a break from study. My mum seems to hate me, my dad seems to love me, and my whole world has turned topsy turvy and I don't know if I'm making sense. I'm scared shitless of this thing they call the future. I know I should focus on the now... but if I don't focus on the future what if the deep blue of the sky comes to swallow me whole, the sun behind me with nowhere to go. What am I? What are exams?
Our lives are determined around 30 or so hours spread out over a couple of months? It's ridiculous. When in the future are we going to have to sit in a room and cram all we know about a huge broad topic into the space of a few hours? Surrounded by scribbling pens and the waft of whiteout, ink stains on fingers trying to jam a years worth of knowledge into a couple of sheets of paper.
I'm scared as hell.
I don't need this right now.

Myself.

I'm becoming very involved in life of late. I've taken a dominant role in deciding its course, I'm no longer letting depression sweep me along. I am wholly myself. I am in control.
I'm allowing myself to speak up rather than be crippled by guilt about what could happen. My opinions are being voiced, and though the manner in which they are voiced need some work, they are clearly expressed.
I am becoming engaged in my passions again. In Literature, we're studying Ted Hughes' poetry- well to be honest we've finished, and only an essay is left to write- but I feel inflamed by inspiration, it is as if this fire has grown a solid base under me, its warmth is bouyant and I am untouchable. I remember the reason I am so passionate about words and language, and about the meaning they create. I am a force and I will continue until the power within me has subsided. I know why  I want to teach. This passion. This passion drives me, and if there is one thing I'd like to accomplish in life it would be to express and perhaps inspire this passion in others.
And love. Passion and love. If there's one thing I'm not lacking it's love. My relationship with my boyfriend feels as though it is blossoming into another new level. I have once again been thrown into the tumultuous vortex and I am falling again, though this time I'm ready to relinquish all control. Adolescence may be the game I play, but I don't need to abide by its rules. If it tells me I may not fall in love at 16, and particularly in different stages, I argue. Adolescent rules are simply wrong and cynical and I am living proof.
Passion. This is my life at the moment. I am fuelled by my beliefs and values and emotions. I am fully engaged in myself. Christ, I'm smiling more than a few months ago I would have even thought possible.
I am defined by myself. Not my relationship, not my instability, not my reputation, but by myself.

Fuck promises. I've had enough. See you in a long time, everyone.