Why Me?

Sitting againest the wall,
Pressing hands to ears,
Blasting music,
Rocking back and forth,

Asking,
Why me,
Why me,
Why me?

Why can't I be with the one I love?
Why can I never be happy?
Why do I go through so much stress?
I just want to die at times.

I have good friends,
A few good choices,
They help me,
And I help them.

So why do I choose to ask these questions?
Why am I so unsure?
Am I not believing in my friends?
Or is it the depression?