Why do I let you treat me like shit? I think I must just enjoy being miserable. Secretly I loved it when you were pissed at me when I told you I was 3 minutes from dying. Inside I must thrive off of letting you tell me how terrible I am and how much you hate me and how you’re so much better off without me. I love it when you put me down and when you tell me to fuck off. I love it when you start fights and when I’m never good enough. I love it when you treat me like shit. And I hate myself more than anything.