Sorry, but not sorry.
I’m sorry I did what I did. You would probably hate me if you knew.
But, I’m not sorry cause it was totally worth it. I’ll go to the grave with this secret.
SORRY BUT NOT SORRY. TROLOLOL.
Thank goodness I forgot how to give a fuck.
It’s just cause it’s late.
I need someone to prove to me that I’m worth it and that’ll be as concerned about me as I am about them.
Why is that so hard.
Why am I so stupid.
Why aren’t I asleep yet.
I just need someone that will change my opinion.
And I’ll dance around.
You know at the end of the year when everyone is writing in year books? Usually, it’ll consist of cutesy things like, “I’m always here when you need me,” or “You rock, don’t ever change,” or something stupid like that. I’ll probably write that to everyone that made me smile at least once. Or I’ll bring up some funny insider we have.
Not my letter to you, though.
It’ll be the most bitter, angriest letter you’ve ever read. I’m gonna write about how much I hate you. I’m gonna point out your every flaw and your every bullshit excuse. And I’m gonna laugh because you’ll probably write something nice in my yearbook, about how nice you thought I was. But, I’m not. At all. And this will satisfy my malicious intent because you will have not expected this vicious behavior from me. I’m going to make you regret ever mistreating me in anyway or form. But you know what will be the most satisfying of all? When you look back at your yearbook to reminisce all the good times you’ve had, there will be my letter. Sitting at the back page of your yearbook. Burning a hole through all the pages. And instead of being happy about all the friendships you’ve made or the memories that you’ll never forget, you’ll reevaluate every wrong thing you’ve ever done to me and realize your high school career was bullshit.
Okay, I’m not as bitter as I sound. Sorta. Ohwell. Need to study more. Bye.
.. Honestly though, It’ll just be good to know I got the truth off my chest. Finally.
This probably meant nothing to him but the simplest things can make my day. And this is one of them. Not meant to hit on me, just a genuine compliment.
Maybe I should just let my guard down.
This is me being a teenage girl with all those emotions and what not:
Today was something special.
I wanted to be perfect. I wanted to make you feel better. I wanted you.
I was so nervous going to your house and doing everything right.
But, then I relaxed and then everything got a million times better.
I’m still not over how natural and comfortable everything felt.
Then there’s you, being all suave and cool and sweet and shit.
I felt so pretty and amazing for the first time in awhile.
And I will never forget how special you made me feel today.
I honestly can’t say thank you enough for making me smile the way you did.
Even though the date didn’t go according to the plan, I’m beyond happy with it.
I know I’ll be going to sleep for the next couple of nights thinking about you.
—Even if the thought of all this is scaring me. I need to convince myself that there’s nothing to be afraid of. It was just a date. Just one date. (Even though I’m wishing for millions more, ahah.)
-13.
I’m gonna forget about you. But until then:
You’re the type of handsome to make me stop dead in my tracks just to see you walk away from me and every chance I had to say hi, smile, or try and start a conversation with you. But, of course, I didn’t because you’re the type of handsome that causes me to go weak and paralyzes me. I haven’t felt this way about a stranger in such a long time. And, seeing your face around here gives me butterflies every single time.
Today, you found out I thought you were cute cause of our mutual friend. It was terribly embarrassing, but I’m glad he told you, because I could’ve excused myself for staring. (I obviously didn’t cause I was too busy focusing on how red and hot my cheeks were getting.) As you walked closer to me, my mind and my heart beat started racing. Why didn’t I wear something cuter? Why didn’t I do my hair? Why couldn’t I stop being such a spaz? I wasn’t expecting to see you again, that’s why. I was happily caught off guard by you, stranger.
That’s all you’ll ever be, though, just a stranger in my book. But seeing you was like seeing a shooting star, only for a brief moment, but incredibly breathe-taking.
