what I'd like to know

I know that really only Connor reads this blog.  And that's fine.  It's a place for our secrets.  Secrets like: I am writing this alone in my house, without my bra on, feeling the way my stomach skin rolls under my tiny breasts, listening to the song Autumn Leaves.   Or the way I piece myself together so no one knows how I'm really feeling.  Or what I am thinking.  Or how I don't ever want someone to break down my walls, and how I lead most people to believe they have.  Or that I hate being taken for granted.  I am worth something, even if no one tells me I am.  I don't need anyone to tell me that, even if it would be nice to hear once, rather than how I piss you off, or how I'm a cunt, or the worst sister ever, or a poor student, or that I don't care.  Because, little do you know, I do care.  That's all I do.  I don't know what else to do but care.  I'm just wired that way.  If only you could look in my mind: there would be lots of images of attractive men, hateful thoughts of my untoned body, past memories, thoughts of delicious food, useless memorized lyrics, and wonderings about how you are doing.  Yes, you.  Surprise, I do care about you, all the time.  But here's what I'd like to know, where and when.  Where and when am I going to finally going to get my shit together and leave this place.  Go somewhere warm, start off new.  Not know anyone.  Find out who I am, and see who really does care about me.  I'll do it, eventually, just where and when.  The two unknowns.