The first thing I noticed about you was how sad your eyes looked but I could never admit this to anyone because it sounds so Teen Cliche, doesn’t it, and you were sad but you were a million other things -- and my God do I hate it when people become their sadness -- but the honest truth is that your eyes drew me in from across the room and you looked like your heart had been broken and i am like Saint Jude in that when I see a lost cause I want to nurse it back to health. I thought this was one of my better points but looking back, it’s a stupid thing to do. let people be broken, let boys with sad eyes be sad, I tell myself now. It’s better for you. You were an *******, that’s for sure. You made me insane. You made my blood boil. You ******* killed me all the time and I thought I loved you. I was crazy back then, of course I still am and I have a note from a psychiatrist to Prove It, but I was crazy in a different way then and my jealousy was like a fever that ran through me all the ******* time. I had a dream about killing you, did you know? It was the second- or was it third? or fourth? time you cheated on me and flaunted it and I couldn’t sleep for hours but when the sobs finally left my chest I dreamt about ripping the muscles from your bones and plucking your eyes from your sockets and maybe you’d be proud of me because you always were a bit of a sadist. I think everyone has heard this story a thousand times before and I think most people can sympathize but that doesn’t make it one bit easier but I wish it did. When it’s a song everyone knows and can sing along to I actually get kind of mad because hey, no, it’s my story and I want it to myself. I want to feel different and special because i am an entitled teenage girl and that’s all I really want, im a baby and a child and i like being infantalized and i have ******* daddy issues but i don’t like to admit it because i want to be protected but i don’t want to be seen as weak. I know im childish and selfish but I’m allowed to be as long as I keep it to myself and it’s my own little secret because most people just see me with my smiles and empty eyes and there doesn’t seem to be a lot back there. You knew I was insecure and selfish and more like a little kid than a well-adjusted teenager but you said you loved me anyway. I remember now that you also told me a thousand times how much you loved my body and if I count the days since we met that’s like 3 times a day so you’d think i would believe you by now but i don’t because it was all a lie a lie a lie you lied to me about everything you lied to me about ******* megan but you did, you ****** her in a dressing room two days after you said you loved me again and when you told me it felt like having my heart ripped out because i was either in love with you or just ******* obsessed with you and i still can’t tell the difference.