Now, normally I'm not the type of person who gets all deep and emotional on this board. I'm one of those people who does not like airing out my problems for the world to hear..but in this case, I feel like I need to. Pre-requisite: I was picked on a lot as a kid. Whether it was because I was doofily tall, or I started puberty late, or because I was an athlete, I'm not really sure. I always gave people the time of day, and I'd take a bullet for my closest friends, they know this...and I hope they understand the gravity of me saying that. I hated middle school, I hated most of high school. It seemed like people made me the goat for anything, or the brunt of a joke all the time. I had trouble settling in, finding friends, and really finding my place in the world. While all this was going on, my parents were fighting behind closed doors. I had no idea, and got blindsided in my sophmore year when my Dad moved into the guest bedroom. He said he needed to isolate himself because of Colitis. I'm not stupid, and I knew something was up..but I pretended to believe. Junior year rolls around, and I finally start looking like everyone else, maturing both on a mental and physical level. I did well in my classes, people started to notice me, and I came into my own with regards to the sports I play, and being a prospect for collegiate baseball and volleyball. I fell for a girl pretty hard (which for me, NEVER happens), and she told me she liked me back. All things were going well until I find out she was talking to someone on the phone from California, and they had decided to try a long distance relationship. I was gutted and angry, but most of all...I was confused. Old insecurities crept back in..what if I wasn't attractive? What if no one ever gives me a chance? Not long after (a week and a half) my parents informed me that I was moving..and they were legally separating. That might have been the lowest point of my life. I was depressed, angry, sad..but most of all...unhappy. I wondered if I would ever have a chance just to be like everyone else and have things go well for me...even if just once. Thankfully, my acceptance into PSU numbed things a little, but I was still in a daze. I didn't sleep, and when I did...I didn't want to wake up. I couldn't wait to leave my hometown and get out of that hellhole. Get through Senior year, and start my life over at State. Senior year rolls around, I go to baseball showcases. Penn State coach comes up and talks to me about possibly playing for the school. I was ecstatic beyond belief, I thought my dream had come true. Finally, I'd have my day. I didn't. Amidst the haze of senior year, keeping together what friendships I had, and just scraping by in school because of Senioritis and whatnot. My volleyball season was awesome, those guys are my best friends in the world. It was the true definition of what a team should be. However, I was looking forward to baseball the most. I hit the gym in the offseason...hard. Too hard. I fucked up my elbow, and had an awful senior season on the field. I didn't get an offer to play at PSU. Fast forward to the present.; a lot of things have been happening in my life over the past six months. I'm in my second year at Penn State, just finished pledging my fraternity, and I thought things were finally falling into place for me. I'm in an open relationship, and was really enjoying myself. I found my niche at school, I was happy until this week. When I got back from break, I knew it would be difficult picking up where I left off with this girl. Things have a tendency to go that way when you go over a month without seeing each other. I got back, and I found myself angry that we were in an open relationship. I want to be with her. Unfortunately for me, she is not sure what she's gonna do. I'm in limbo basically, and I'm worried she won't choose me again. The insecurities are back. I also got a call last week that my guinea pig died. I had been expecting this for sometime, but that little thing felt like it was the only friend I had in the world for a lot of the time...she was 5. Around 3:30 today, I got a call from my dad. Our adorable, frisky, puppy was run over by a car today. 4 months old. I'm heartbroken. She followed me everywhere I went, and would cry when I went to bed. She cried when I left for college coming back from winter break too. I've lost my two pets in one week. The only two things in the world which didn't give a shit what I looked like, or what other people said about me, or what I did with my life. And they've been taken from me within a week. I cried for the first time in six years today. Not bawled, but cried. I couldn't do it for so long, but I did. I broke down. I don't know what to do, I just feel like I'm never gonna get my chance to stay happy. I was happy for six months, just like that..I may be lower than before.