I just fucking compare myself to everyone that I see. wishing I had her hair, or her eyes, or her voice. idk I’m just sick of being me. and I’m sick of not being good enough. “you are too, don’t say that” well I’m not good enough for myself. I know I have good morals and I’m a nice person and all that but at the end of the day I just wish I could fucking vanish. only like 3 people actually give a shit about me and it’s not enough. not to mention according to my stepdad I’m just ‘a waste of time’ and ‘I screw everything up.’ I know. I fucking already know and I don’t need you to tell me.
I’m the only person my age I know who doesn’t fucking care about being top dog. I don’t give a fuck about partying or drinking or drugs and makeup makes me look stupid. I could care less about sitting alone at lunch as long as I have a book to read. I’m fine with my body and I don’t want a thigh gap. if anything I think my legs are too scrawny. dieting and exercise are stupid. I’m not ‘thinspired’ to starve myself. if I want a greasy burrito or pizza goddamnet I’ll eat it. idk everyone just seems so fake, putting on a front to be what the world wants them to be. I’m not perfect and I say the wrong things and my hair looks bad about 95% of the time but that’s just me. and I’m fine with that.
so i was told today that if my step brother raped me it wouldn’t be a big deal because i’d like it and i would have egged him on. how can you look someone in the face and fucking tell them that? i don’t fucking get it. all that he’s done to me isn’t something to joke about, and i’m not fucking laughing.
I want a guy to leave me a trail of rose petals in reds and pinks leading to an old fashioned bathtub filled with bubbles and more petals, surrounded by my favorite candles and inscents and soaps. with Right Away, Great Captain playing softly in the backround. and i want to cook together and have little food fights with frosting or something and just laugh and laugh and love.
i want to love and be loved in return. i’m sick and tired of being so lonesome, no matter how hard i try not to be. i’m still overcome by the fact that i am, in all actuality, alone, no matter how many people surround me, i am alone.