I know you say I’m young and I’ll find the right guy eventually, but why can’t I be happy now? why must I repeatedly be hurt? Why is another girl always better than me? Why do i get rejected always, either for not speaking up, or for putting myself out there too much? Why, when I look in the mirror, do I only see ugly, and awkward, and not good enough? Why do you say you like me so much, but still choose her? Why can’t you be a man? Why do I get blamed for getting hurt, because “I should know”? Why can’t I cry when I so desperately need to? Why is love so easy to find for everyone else, yet always evades me. Why can’t I feel the magic that so many songs and books and works of art and actions are based upon? Why does it seem that I am destined for pain?
I know you say I’m young, but does that mean I deserve not to feel love?