I'm crazier than you

Had a really messed up dream recently.  Crazy enough that I'm not going to share it.  But I mentioned it on Facebook.  S commented that she had weird dreams sometimes too.  Like once she dreamt that she caught her husband making out with some movie star and actually woke up angry enough to wake him up to yell at him for it.
I'll admit, I was very tempted to tell her what my 'normal' dreams are like.  Just to give her a frame of reference for what I mean when I had one that I found disturbing.  But I didn't.  I didn't want to start showing off or playing the 'I'm Crazier than You' game.  There were a few times that C tried to tell me how she was crazy.  Seriously, she said.  I'm crazy.  like she was bragging about it.  I just bit my tongue and didn't say that I thought she had no idea what real crazy was.  I'm not even close to what I would call real crazy either, but I do know what real crazy is.
It irritates me when people start bragging about their insanity.  The truth is that they want all the secondary benefits that come with others thinking you're crazy, without having to suffer the drawbacks.  The main one is that they're crazy.

Fuck you, World. I want Kirstin back.

I want my friend back.  The friend who understood me and knew me better than anyone.  The friend who called me at all hours just because she felt like it.  Who would miss me if we hadn't spoken for more than a week.  Who was always happy when I called and would make the call last as long as possible.  And to whom I could do the same.
Kirstin knew me better than anyone.  She knew all about my stupid social and romantic hang-ups, but they didn't bother her.  She didn't endure them or not care about them; she just understood and let them be.  When I acted or said something stupid or went too far, she didn't call attention to it or hold it against me.  She let it pass and promptly forgot it.  She knew the secret me that few know or care about.  I could trust her and she could trust me.  We talked for hours about secret fears and dreams, family and friends, science art and philosophy.
Now she's gone and there's a gaping hole in my life that I fall into and have to climb back out of almost weekly.  I can't talk to anyone else the way I could talk to Kirstin.  I can't call at random times just for the Hell of it.  I have to watch everything I say and be careful of slip-ups, which I regularly fail at.  I have to analyze what they say and constantlybe on the lookout for double meanings and innuendos.  Even then, most of them can only last a few minutes at most before finding some excuse to end the conversation, let alone talk for hours like Kirstin and I used to.  The worst part is that if it had been anybody else who died, Kirstin would have been the one who could get me through it.
So yeah, fuck you world.  None of you can fill the hole left in my soul when she left.  Not even close.  So just leave me alone and let me get on with my solitary existence.