Why?

My question is always why. Why do I feel this? Why does it have to be me? Why do I feel guilty? Why am I hated? Why am I judged? Why do I act like this? Why did my best friend ditch me? Why am I ugly? Why am I fat? Why do people care if they’ll judge me anyways? Why? Why is the question we ask ourselves everyday. We want an answer. We perceive things different from other, but why? Why can’t I listen to bands such as the Arctic Monkeys? Why am I judged if I am different? Why do I exist? Why am I alive? Why am I writing this? I feel as if I’ll just be judged anyways. Why are my friends mean to me? Is it because of me? Am I a jerk? Am I the one who ruins everything? My friend and I had a fight yesterday. She missed school today. We know almost everything about each other. She told me she tried tried to kill herself. I blamed it on me, on our fight. I apologized kindheartedly. However, she also hurt me in that fight. She hurt me like nothing I’ve been hurt with before. I feel as if she would’ve killed herself, I would’ve blamed it on me. She also said it would “take time” for her to forgive me. I was stupid. I feel stupid. I told her I was “done.” I told her I didn’t want to wait, and that I was just done. Why? Why did I have to do that? I have no one now. I “tell” all of my problems to myself and my cat. Nothing is inside of me. I am feeling nothing but pain. I’m just done.