• The Unlucky Ones

    by  • July 20, 2011 • * Safe for Work *, To You • 0 Comments

    Dear self,

    I hate you. It is nice to finally just outright say it. I hate how many times a day you wonder if you will end up as a crazy cat lady. Or in other simpler terms, die alone. You hate how you just can’t get over this idea. It’s all you can think or worry about. You just suck. You never live life at all. You’re stressed about every single detail or stressed about nothing at all. You have a support system full of loving family members and friends, a decent job, an almost free college education, a nice car, and your future ahead of you, yet you never appreciate any of this. All you worry about how you will never find the one.

    You are so pretty and have recently obtained a new sense of self confidence, yet this is the one thing that bugs you above all others. You have been through so much, dealt with more than others have ever had to, yet you still don’t deserve to be happy? You don’t understand how all your friends get boyfriends, no matter if they are jerks, nerds, sweet, or appear to come from another planet. You are just always the one left alone. You think this is how you are going to spend your entire life. That no one will ever want you. Just because you are different, or you would rather stay inside to play video games or watch Buffy marathons instead of going out to drink or party. You are just the unlucky one. The one everyone tells to be patience. You have heard this so many times, yet it never results in anything. You want that Taylor Swift fairytale. No matter how much of a pessimistic realist you are, you believe that there is some type of happy ending out there for you.

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