I kept on providing comfort to my friends and family, oblivious of the very fact that I needed it the most. I wrote a book but couldn't get it published, found the man of my dreams but couldn't keep him, got the job of my dreams but couldn't continue it. I want to live, but I find it difficult to continue. Happiness seems like a drug that seems to give me a high but only for few moments and has a high price. I commit myself to alot of things but never follow through. I want to hope that things can get better but I am unable to find it anywhere.