You make fun of me, call me fat, mock me all day.
But then, you tell me you love me.
Well, news flash.
Thats. Not. Love.
Your words have actually driven me to become depressed.
Its nights like tonight when I truly think I hate you.
But yet if I told you I were depressed you would be mad.
You would yell at me and tell me how great I have things.
And thats really not what anyone in my condition wants to hear.
So I guess I will suffer in silence until you finally realize how much pain I am in.
And how much pain you are causing me.