Question life, then die.

Sometimes I dont understand myself. Why must I do the things I do? I figure that my mother probably reads this, so everything I write has to be censored. I can't really speak my mind and let people know things that happen, things that mean something. I know that I should have an open relationship with my parents, but it doesn't mean that they would like everything I have to say.
I don't really know what else to say. My life consists of work, shower, bed, and wishing I could see Sam more often before he leaves for college. I feel like breaking down and crying and leaving him all because sometimes it hurts, and I want nothing of it. Then again, that would not really help, because I love him. The tears of pain can be good, and if I left him they wouldn't. They would hurt more and I'd miss him. I think I've hurt him enough, to say the truth. He deserves so much better than what I can give him. I.. I just don't understand.