She isn't nervous

Ten. There were ten pretzel sticks lying on the desk in front of her. She counted them again to make sure. Ten and a half if you counted the poor excuse of a pretzel at the end of the row. She frowned and ate that one first. It was stale, lacking the salt that the others had been bathed in. She looked at the remaining ten and immediately felt bad, having ended the existence of the one that was apart from the rest. So quick to glance at it with disgust and rid of it. How poor of her. All of the others tasted the same. They were rich and crisp, one after another. Boring.

She would light candles in the night and sit cross-legged in front of a mirror, staring emotionless at her reflection. In one pale hand, she’d hold the silver tube of blood-red lipstick, some unknown brand’s name splashed across the face in font she didn’t care about. In one slow but fluid motion, she set the wax to her lips and covered every inch of her frown with this screaming color. She didn’t stop, though. For three minutes straight, she continued to circle her mouth with the lipstick, unsure of her reason for doing so. She took note that her lips weren’t full enough, and decided to push the makeup up further. After ten seconds of staring in the mirror, she robotically reached for a tissue, for the line between lip and skin was comedically obvious. She wiped off most everything but left the tint of what had been. She knew it would be gone in the morning, but knowing that it was there now was somehow comforting.

I'm not entirely sure of the meaning of these. I got to go to Barnes&Noble today (whoo!) and I was so exited to be surrounding by all of the words, the colors, the emotions. I haven't felt so at peace in a while. I got this book called The Bird Room and just finished it about forty minutes ago. It was really good and the author had one of those fantastic ways with writing that you'll never forget. Sort of like Ellen Hopkins. Plus, it took place in the UK, so they included the words such as rubbish, bloke, and lad. For some reason, post-read, I immediately sat down at my computer and spit that ^ out.

I'm very happy and unhappy at the same time in life right now. I have a very amazing person in my life but I feel that I lost people in the process. I'm not happy about that, nothing seems to make me feel better about it. It's one of those times where you realize that you really need to be able to live for yourself, when it comes down to it. Rely on whom you want to rely on but in the end, you don't know how long they'll be there, no matter what you tell each other or yourselves.

The important part is, I'm being treated wonderfully and I'm being taken care of. I'm discovering a respect for myself that I had long lost. Thanks to you:
Thanks for everything, dear. I love you.