I thought I was an open book, but I'm not.  If I am a book, and an open one at that, then I am a book so heavily encrypted that I can't even read myself.  I'm finding out that I'm not as mature as a had previously believed myself to be.  I am simply a practical and logical head covered by a pretty face and an ever-present smile, all covering retardedly juvenile emotions, which I have no idea what to do with.  I really am happy for you, and yet I find myself very much unhappy for myself.  I'd rather you go, I just don't know how to handle you leaving.  I really don't know how to handle this.  I'm tired of being mature, and it's not helping, anyway.  I don't know what to do, so I'm just laughing at your jokes and smiling because being around is marvelous (you're marvelous), but then you're gone and I am all on my own, which might just be too much.
It's times like this when being a Christian is amazing, because I know that God has everything planned out, and even when I don't know how to take life, He does, and He has never and will never, ever let me down.