Dear Diary;

Today is officially the worst day of my life.
She paused, letting her mind wander back to the things that had happened, how it had happened, why. He broke up with me, no, dumped me. Left me clutching at empty air, and the really sick thing about this? I had no idea this was coming, I thought everything was fine and this was my fairytale ending. The thought of it still made tears threaten to spill over, but she refused to cry, crying would be admitting that this isn’t just a dream. He said he liked another girl, which means I’m not good enough. Maybe I really am not worth loving, or maybe he just couldn’t appreciate who I really am. Who am I kidding. But…I don’t know, I don’t know what to think. I’m tired of thinking. This sort of numb trance, she hated it. She was never a helpless person, but yet now…yet now she was completely helpless to the fact.
She hesitated, and then started to write again. But how is it that my world has been completely turned upside down, but nobody seems to realize it? His words crushed all that she worked so hard to build, his back turned on her and ended everything, and the footsteps faded, not hearing her pleads to stay. It hurt, more than anything that I’ve ever felt before. My friends gave me a few minutes of sympathy, then spewed some nonsense about finding someone better and getting rid of the spot he had in my heart. I thought they would understand, but yet it doesn’t seem as if anybody does.
As she walked home, the sun was shining and people were going about their lives. A cluster of girls walking down the street, laughing and enjoying themselves as if they have no care in the world. A man rushed to catch the next bus, and bumped into another man arguing on his phone. For the first time since the numb had set in, she felt a flicker of emotion. She was stunned at how completely normal the world was. Something this big, this awful, has happened to me, but yet the world goes on as if nothing happened! Shouldn’t the world stop? Don’t they know what has happened to me? How she longed to be one of them, and hated them because she knew she couldn’t be. She fought the urge to stop her footsteps and scream it out to the world, so that people would stop going about as if nothing had happened and rubbing their normalcy in her face.
This might sound stupid, but I guess I half-expected everyone to know that my life has permanently been changed. I expected people to all of a sudden understand and sympathize with me. Does that make me full of myself? I only thought people would care…but now I realize that I’m really not that important. I can’t possibly expect the world to understand the pain that one insignificant teenager goes through, to follow the drama of my everyday life as a nameless face in the billions of faces out there. The world is too busy, too big, to care about me. A blade of grass is no different than another in that giant field, and I’m nothing but a blade of grass.
She came to accept that the world didn’t stop for her. In fact, it took no notice of her at all.