Clearly everyone handles situations differently: that is blatantly obvious. I don’t ever, ever expect my family or best friends to fully understand how and why I feel about certain situations. One came up particularly that has been a hot topic within friend groups, I’m sure. I don’t expect people to understand my logic, reasoning, and rationality – if I even have any of that. I want to be completely real right now…not that I’m not ever, but not gonna lie, I’ve held back because I know what people think when they read what I write. Trust me, I know! I handle things differently, just like everyone else. I write. I fixate. I write. I dwell. I cry. I write. I write. I move forward but still write about it. That is what I fucking do. Sorry not sorry…? Like, I don’t know what else you expect me to say? Whenever I reference my ex, people, my friends, wonder why I do. And I get that… Because it almost seems like I am re-living the past every time I do. But you all wonder and ponder over the root of my insecurities and whatnot, which don’t have much to do with him, yet everything at the same time. Why do I suck random peoples’ dicks while my peers are in loving, happy relationships? Why do I waste my time on guys that, care, but don’t care as much as I do? And why…why was I not good enough to be loved in my last relationship? I don’t fully believe it was because I couldn’t love myself. That’s fucking bullshit. I’m sorry, but when your ex boyfriend that you dated for 3 years, that you had a history with, that was your first everything, that wanted you back after they broke your heart, dates a girl with the same first and middle name as you…with the same features… I will never be able to get over that. I won’t say never. But…. How am I supposed to feel? The person I loved so fucking much couldn’t, didn’t love me, after all that time. Didn’t want to live with me, didn’t want a family with me, cringed at the thought of any future movement… But here he is… In love with a girl who has my name. Who is everything that I couldn’t be for him: successful, happy, positive, etc. actually I have no idea if that’s how she is. But whatever. And he will probably marry her. And that’s fine. But here I am, being pathetic, when I can’t even get a guy to want me for something more than whatever the fuck. Oh, but, it’s cool if his ‘best friend’ hits on me, right? And it’s cool that his other friend snap chats me about my boobs. And then says he’s ‘kidding’. Okay. Awesome. Listen. I just want what everyone wants. I know I have a lot of flaws but I shouldn’t have to apologize for them if I’m a good person deep down, and I am because I would do anything for someone that I cared about. I want someone to think that my irrationality is neurotic – that it’s cute. I want someone to be unapologetically in love with me… For me. I want someone to be weird with. I want someone who doesn’t think I’m a psycho just because I have the encyclopedia of serial killers and the satanic bible in my book case. I’m still Catholic, people. I just find a lot of things fascinating. I want someone to think I’m amazing. Like, truly. Not just because they’re fucking me. I want someone to give blowjobs to regularly and make breakfast for. I want that person to be genuinely intrigued by not only me, but my thoughts, ideas, and writing. I don’t want them to freak out when I say that my idea of a perfect wedding would be like… Vintage gothic inspired. I don’t want to be ‘too weird’ for them. I want them to be just as weird in their own way. I want them to genuinely think my blowjobs are amazing and everything else. I want them to know that depression is no joke… And that it’s not easily fixable or maintained. I’m depressed and I can’t always help or prevent it. Whatever. It’s late. This is random. Good night. I’m not even editing it. Sorry not sorry.