Disclaimer: I do not own Kagome, only this drabble of her thoughts.

Raising her head from her pillow after what seemed like hours of bawling she sat up wiping the last crystalline drops from her cheeks.

Kagome slowly walked over to her desk and pulled out her diary. Opening to a fresh page she sniffled and began writing all of the feelings and questions that kept continuously running through her head.

Acceptance, love, do we ever truly understand the meaning of these words?

I used to think that acceptance meant liking people, wanting to be with them despite their flaws... but no one does. I mean everyone, even those that mean the most to you, still insist on trying to change something about you. Whether it's your hair, your clothes, or the hobbies you enjoy.

Can no one see the real person buried deep inside? Can no one truly accept the real you, without trying to change anything?

I used to think love was unconditional, but apparently not. It comes with ‘rules' and ‘conditions'. I always thought love meant being there when someone needed you. Holding them when they cried, listening to their problems, and just talking about whatever is on your mind or in your heart.

But they don't ever truly listen. They hold you as long as you talk despite their not understanding. The minute you can't talk, they get mad and storm off or claim you are shutting them out.

Why do we open ourselves to others, when we know what is bound to happen? Why must everyone hurt those they claim to ‘love' and ‘accept' and then get mad when they turn away because of the pain we caused them?

Placing her pen down she took a deep breath and was assaulted with another painful moment in her life.

Remembering when she had tried to explain to her absolute best friend in the world, how she was feeling and he scoffed saying she was refusing to open up to him and wouldn't tell her what truly had her so upset.

Her lower lip trembled as she remembered vividly how angry he had gotten and bounded away after yelling that she never talked to him anymore.

Picking up her pen she began again.

Family: Are they not the ones who are supposed to cherish you the most? To protect you? Why then are they often the ones who turn a blind eye to your situation when you're being abused whether physically or mentally? What happened to the protection they were meant to offer? Where is the cherishing they were supposed to do?

As the sadness and hurt crowded in, she placed her pen aside. Remembering how instead of holding and trying to comfort her when she had been hurt by a cousin, her father had walked away not just from her... but from the whole family.

Scowling she picked up the pen again and wrote some more.

Friends: Is there every really such a person? Are they not supposed to be there to hear your problems and share theirs with you? Are they not supposed to try to help you when you need it, or lend an ear when you cry out? Why then are they the first to drive the knife deep into old wounds the minute they don't like a decision you make?

Sighing she remembered how she had tried telling Sango that she was upset because they didn't listen to her, and Sango had instead brought up how she had lost her family and village and had things so much worse, yet she wasn't letting it get to her and how she needed to grow up.

Clutching the pen so tight it could have broken while she calmed her breathing and fought back more tears, she began writing again.

And so after being hurt so much we withdraw into ourselves, growing colder, letting emotions have fewer reigns in our lives. Tears stop falling, hurt stops fazing us. We stop letting people close to us, for fear of being hurt yet again.

Sadly however true to human nature people do become important to us. We foolishly let them inside our hearts thinking they would never hurt or betray us. Often however they do... and the ones closest to us whom we blindly trust are the ones who hurt us the deepest.

Lovers, friends, family, these are the ones whom we never suspect of being able or willing to harm us... yet when they eventually do, they are the ones who cut the deepest. Do they even care? Does anyone truly care about another?

Can even one person in this world truly take me as I am and be happy with it, or will everyone insist on changing me? Acceptance and love... are there any real things such as these?