Then when it comes to writing all these emotions, i just think back to them and cry. Deeply, all that matters is Denmark right now. I miss all my friends, all those happy days and all those days when i looked forward going too school. Seeing happy faces again, looking at me like i was their best friend. And i was. Then when it comes to moving away from those feelings, and all those people who used to smile too me. I rather think that's hard. Enough to make me cry on the way 'home'. I didn't want to leave them, I wanted to stay right here, in this spot. Rather then going back and not willing to fit in anymore. I didn't want to. I cried, all the way. Every time i think about their names, my eyes start watering, filling my eyes with tears. Tears, streaming down my cheeks, almost like a waterfall. Countless, tears. But in reality all these humans behold a mask, a mask that covers those tears that should be shed. All those feelings that they hold inside of them. It's hard enough for me to say; "I'm fine." Because its not the truth, behind that mask, is the real you, the you that is crying, screaming, bashing, just wanting a hug and cry all the feelings out. It's hard to move from Iceland, from the perfect spot i had. To something that could be so much bigger, i met my best friend, i met everyone i care about. I found a better spot. I was at the top, but then i had to move back to the spot i used to have, losing all of my friends i had in Denmark. And as i slightly changed in Denmark, i didn't get that spot. Instead i got something better. Something that turned out to be important. I got a few friends, that care about me. But they can never, never change what i had. They try, but they just can't. And it makes me sad, seeing them sad around me, because i know what they're thinking. They're thinking about me, and how i feel inside. My real friends, only they, see through that mask i wear, ever day. They smile at me, they complete me. Without friends, i wouldn't be here. I would be dead. With a knife through my heart. Baring all that pain inside, with no one to tell, or talk about. That was once, and once is over. I'm glad i'm still alive.