I HATE 10 o’clock.
I hate when the clock changes from 9:59 to 10:00 and I have to say goodbye to you, even though I’m nowhere near ready. Even though I need you. You don’t know how upset I get when I hear our friends talking about how they always talk until they fall asleep. That simple thing makes me SO jealous.
I’m not good enough. Nothing I EVER do will be good enough.
Just because I’m the oldest doesn’t mean I’m the one who is bullying her. I feel picked on, and ganged up on, and nothing I say matters.
I can’t picture anyone daydreaming about me. I can’t picture someone thinking about me when they’re laying in bed before they fall asleep. I can’t picture anyone telling their friends about me. I can’t picture anyone getting butterflies because I hugged them, or even just because I made eye contact with them. I can’t picture someone smiling because my name lit up their phone. I just can’t.
(Source: honestliars, via leatherandlacie)
