musings from a weekend in the desert

Sometimes I feel as though my life makes sense. I take my medicine, the world seems clear, and everything's okay. A weekend that is meant to be fantastic turns into something else. Good times and bad, exciting moments and hours spent crying in the closet. I feel distant even though I want to be close. I feel pushed away even though I am trying to hold on. I am special; why don't I feel like that? Why can't other people see how unique and exciting I am? And why do I insist on holding on when I'm the only one with my hand extended?