i can't help it. it's like i love being miserable. i actually think i do. it was like i was staring at you, and trying to memorize your face, and you caught me... i kept staring. but let me tell you, as i was reading i felt like i was prying into your life, it was eating away at my heart. but i couldn't stop.
next time i have an idea, say no, tell me to "fuck off". my ideas are the worst.


and i can't even get angry. i wish i was perfect. i could feel my insecurities creeping up again. they engulfed me. i know i promised, i tried, i really did.