Lost in coma and covered in cake

As I was laying in the bath I could sense the end. Of what, I don't know. Anything from the end of the summer to the end of the world. It was my birthday yesterday and, though thoroughly enjoyable, the framed canvas of my mind had plenty of other ideas. I can't forget about it. Every time I turn around, every time I get up, every time I sleep and even worse when I wake. I don't know which part within what little I know seems to cause the most agony. The most important question happens to be: Why now? There are unimaginable things becoming imaginable and most of the time I feel as though I want to rip off my own head. There is no other possible plausible reaction for me. I feel that I need a memory dump. It keeps taunting and mocking and deriding me and only simply because it "happened". I didn't want to write about it but I feel like it's the only thing that might keep me from insanity today. I'm not sure of what the hell is wrong, I only know it's not fucking right. I think that maybe today I have had little sleep and might be emotional, but that doesn't excuse yesterday. It was my fucking birthday, and it's all I could think about. What kind of a fucking world is this? What happened to my "don't-give-a-fuck" switch? I feel an overwhelming desire to hurt her. Though what has she truly done wrong? I remember once upon a time having visions of posting lit matches through her letterbox. I don't have much of an appetite today and it's most probably for said reason. My mum just asked who I was talking to so i'm taking it in my stride to curse my stepdad less and write more. I take it time isn't that much of a great healer after all. I am becoming increasingly frustrated and increasingly misunderstood. I took a bath today so I could think freely inside a locked room, yet I didn't expect to cry so much. I am at a loss, though. Whatever this thing is punishing me, it was bound to happen after an almost emotionally faultless summer. I wonder, does this always happen with someone's first love. I'm done dwelling. I feel mortified and shamed.