How much I love you is honestly a testament to how much I hate myself.
It’s always something isn’t it? Something this. Something that. Excuses for not wanting to spend time around me. Excuses for wanting to spend time around me. It’s exhausting. Why can’t you just…
“if I’m going to have a girl by my side when I talk to my friends she needs to be my girlfriend and not…you”
I guess I’ll keep that in mind.
You act like you’re the only person in the world who has ever been stressed or… inconvenienced.
But you don’t even see the people practically detonating all around you.
Your tiny amount of stress
I had a friend once who told me
“You’re a joke, your art sucks, your emotive writing makes me laugh. Every single bad thing that happens to you…you deserve. I’ve been a good friend for you for so long and…”
and it hurt, but I guess I deserved it because I wasn’t afraid to call her out
on the things she would’ve rather not been aired on her personal page
she really isn’t a good person
or a good friend
because all she really is…
is this cheap, bitter, unreliable, irritating person
who has no place in my life
and her friendship is literally laughable
because she’s the same person, who told me
“There’s no such thing as bisexual. You can’t be bisexual because it doesn’t exist. You can’t be attracted to both men and women. You’re dating a man, you’re straight.”
and the worst thing is, she’s homosexual
it made me feel like
no one would ever accept me
because I couldn’t help being attracted to both sexes
I thought there was something wrong with me…
I still do