I'm constantly running away.

Running away from things and I'm struggling to have my own private space. A place where I thought I can share, but  sadly, I've created my own world.

I'm near imploding. That pushed me to run from the 26th floor to the basement comfort room to find comfort. Not to whatever call of nature, but from the emotional distress that I've been nurturing. I just had to somehow, breakdown.

I asked her last night if she sometimes makes me jealous on purpose. And she answered yes. With the lingering quesion "why?" - I chose to close the topic and try to pass out.

Because it makes me feel insecure about myself.

I'm feeling stagnance once again.