Sometimes I don’t even know anymore.
Why.
Why do I have to feel like this.
Stop please.
What do you want from me.
What abut you.
How come.
What do you want me to do.
Is it always me.
Fault.
Ugh. Idk. This sucks.
I want pizza.
And ice cream.
And sleep.
"But sometimes we get sad about things and we don’t like to tell other people that we are sad about them. We like to keep it a secret. Or sometimes we are sad but we don’t really know we are sad. So we say we aren’t sad. But really we are."
Just because I had a lovely prom night with my handsome date. :)