I hate that I have to actually deal with emotions. I’m angry, hurt, jealous, and so upset that I feel like I’m going to puke. I hate myself. I hate other people. I’m angry that people are breaking my high standards and breaking my heart at the same time. I’m mad at myself for breaking the calm, emotionless veneer I so carefully paint over myself. That my anger isn’t as righteous as I wish it was. It’s slightly twisted by the jealousy in my heart. I’m still right, but the fact that it’s not as clean as I wish it was makes everything even worse.
Seeing people the same age as you doing awesome things with their life
I can feel the change happening. I’m focusing on the bad parts of the situation so I can distance myself from it. Go brain. Teach my heart to be smarter. We are better off alone for the moment. <3
Tumblr has become my new diary. No one ever reads my posts anyways. I have three followers. I don’t have to give a shit.
that the only reason I’m upset is because I’m so insanely jealous. We are nothing more than friends. You know I like you. And yet you talk about other girls and ask me what’s wrong when I go silent. But how do I voice such a completely groundless feeling? You aren’t mine in any way. We are friends. You’re welcome to do as you please. I’m slowly dying inside. I wish I’d stuck to my convictions and just kept living my life without ever seeing anyone as more than a friend. It hurt so much less. Every attempt at liking anyone in the last few years has gone so utterly wrong and has left me gasping for air over these dry heaving sobs. I was just so sure you liked me back that I let my guard down. My bad…