I need to get it all out. This is my emotional dumping ground. I can’t keep this in and I can’t tell anyone but I need someone to read it so hey, lucky you.
To Nick- I miss you. I love you, I always will. We haven’t talked in 8 months and every day the pain dulls a little more but it still doesn’t hide the fact that you were my best friend and things went wrong and that we will always love each other. Why do you refuse to talk to me? You still love me, I know it. I hate that I missed your call, even if you were drunk. I was too. It’s okay. It will be okay. Can we just talk? I want to see you, want to hold your hand and kiss you and lay on the red couch and watch Californication like we used to. Those days were perfect. I would do anything to have one back.
To Pat- You came at the worst possible time. You turned me into a self-conscious paranoid fuck-up and I will never forgive you for that. You took advantage of my vulnerability, something I normally would hide away. You saw it and seized the opportunity to exploit it and I am still so humiliated. I never let people do that, but you did. Why did you do it?
To random boys- You are nothing. I am emotionally numb at this point. You aren’t special. If anything, you are embarrassing. I’m better than this. Don’t ever forget it, don’t ever think less of me. Because you could be anyone. You don’t mean anything. You should just know.
To my mother- I resent you more and more each day. I know you’re trying, but you just can’t seem to let go. I feel so much guilt for not just being happy with what I have. To those of you reading this, thinking that I’m so ungrateful, that I should respect my mother and love her just because she gives me everything and puts a roof over my head, fuck you. I don’t have to defend myself. It could be a hell of a lot worse, I know. But that doesn’t make it any less real to me. It doesn’t make this any more acceptable. I loathe what my mother does to me, not her. I hate certain aspects of her, but I do love her and I do try. Anyway. Mom. Please just let me grow up. Let me be seventeen. This is the prime of my life and I can’t live it. I want to be free. I can’t wait to get out of here. I don’t want to answer to anyone. And it’s not because I want to be able to go out and party and not worry about a curfew or lying about where I am. It has nothing to do with that. I just want freedom for the first time in my life. Please just let go. Please. I’m begging you. Let me go.
To Brendan- I don’t know why we do this to ourselves. I don’t know what I feel for you but you are slowly becoming the most important person in my life. I know you love me but I don’t know what I can do about it. Please understand. I’m just so confused. I love you but I don’t think I’m in love with you and I’m so sorry for that. Thank you for everything though.
It’s all too much sometimes.