Well. After crying, I ingested a large amount of ice cream, vomited, and felt a little better about my current situation. Once examined, things aren't as awful as they seem. Josh will still give me hugs and Mylan will love me no matter what.
Things will be different next year. I won't be going to Bridgeport. I'll have new friends, new classes, and I've been promised a car. Things are going to get better; it's just going to take some time.
I still hate myself, and I still hate the direction in which things are going right now, but I'm not pathetic enough to not even try to change things to my favor. Right now, though, I'm content with quoting Pulp Fiction with Mylan and crying myself to sleep.
Fuck..