There's been this one question that I've always wanted to ask you:

"Why am I not enough?"

There's always someone you pick over me.  Your sister, your friends, her.
And, even when there isn't anyone else, you still don't pick me.  Never first choice, or second, or third....

There must be something wrong with me, mentally, physically, emotionally, personally, because I'm not enough, and I was never picked by you.

Hearing your mom cry is the worst thing in the world. My mom cried for a year straight. At least, that’s what it felt like. She would try to hide it from me. Lock herself in the bathroom, and turn the shower on. She would come out with dry eyes, and a smile on her face. Coincidentally, the way she hid her tears was the same way I did. Sometimes we would both be in the bathroom, her in the upstairs bathroom, and me in the downstairs one. In a way we were doing it together, and it was comforting.

Sometimes I wondering if you were the right person for me, but our timing just ******.
When you loved me, I loved someone else.
And now I love you, and you don't feel the same.  
I figured it all out too late.
I'll always wonder if you were Mr. Right.
Always wonder, but never know.
****.

I cry.  
I cry a lot.
I tell people I don’t, but that’s a lie.
I cry in the shower.  I cry in my bed at three o’clock in the morning.  I cry behind a locked door, covering my face, in a silent house.

Sad little boys.
You reek of desperation.
It felt great to say no.
No, I won't come closer.
No, I won't do it again.
No, I won't kiss you.
No, I will do what I want.
And trust me...
I do not want to do you.

I want you from your heart to your soul and everything in between.

I get why my mom says she hates my father, but she still keeps him around. I want to call it love, but it’s not love... It’s fear. Fear of losing people, and the enormous fear of being all alone. It’s terrifying how willing people are to put up with people who treat them like ****. When you're scared, it's easy to believe it's the last time they'll cheat, even though you've said that the last three times.  It's easy to pretend it never happened, even when you've seen the proof.  You want to believe you aren't just one of many.   You want to believe you're special.  You want to believe it's love.
****,
I want to believe it's love.
But, it’s not.
People say love is strong, but I think fear is a little stronger.

Even if they hand you the scissors.  Even if everyone tells you, "you should."
You can't truly severe the ties, unless you make the choice that you want to.







And the thing is,
I don't want to.

If you have nothing to give, give yourself.

My favorite memory wasn’t when we were kissing, or cuddling, or ******* so hard, I thought we might break. Those moments were great, but nothing like this. We were sitting up on a diving board. My legs were dangling over the edge, you were sitting behind me, holding me close. You rested your chin on my shoulder, and we looked quietly at the city lights in front of us. You slowly ran your hands through my hair. Then you kissed me softly on the cheek. I've never felt so many butterflies for you as I did in that moment.

"Babe, you were my last thought in 2014, and now you're my first thought in 2015...
I love you."

That's what I texted you last year, at midnight, on New Years Eve.
You replied with, "Aw, thanks."

It's December 28th, 2015, and I haven't gone a day this year without you on my mind.
I don't think anyone understands what I feel towards you, you especially don't.

I feel like at one point you might have loved me.  Now I feel like you tolerate me, but even that can only last for so long.

I've spent a year loving someone who didn't love me back.  I've spent a year trying to make things work, with someone who never cared to try.  I don't think it was the healthiest year for me.  But the thing is, I can't blame anyone for it. It's been my choice, and it always has been.  I choose to make this year about you, I choose to put you first, I keep picking you.

Will 2016 be another year of you?  I guess it's my choice, let's see what I pick.

I felt so much for you, and it's clear you felt so little for me. Emotionally, you make me feel like ****.

Where are you most comfortable?



My comfort zone is at my house, in my bed. It's a place that I've known for the past 10 years. It's where I've had countless sleepovers, and movie nights and late night chats with my friends.  In 3 months I'm leaving my comfort zone, and I'm moving to a new place. I'm excited and nervous.  Excited because something new is fun.  Nervous because my whole life is a comfort zone.  I've lived in the same place practically my whole life. I've had a crush on the same one guy my whole life. My main friends are people I've known since I was 4.  My whole life has been basically the same for a long as I can remember, and I love it like that.  I love my zone, and I don't know if I'll be ready to leave it all behind in T- 3 months.