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maroon’s the muse
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ive known you for a few weeks. ive known you for three years. we've done this a million times before. this is the first time. i miss you. you're right here.
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i just need you to tell me, honey
because "show don't tell" was advice
given to us in third grade
to make our stories more interesting
i don't want an interesting story
i want to love you
and i want you to tell me how
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how normal is it to wish something really bad would happen to you so you at least have a reason for being so fucking weird all the time
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Nvm let me leave before i have another public meltdown
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one thing i have learned, or at least convinced myself of, is that sometimes you need to bite your tongue. your friends don't want to be told that what they're saying is cruel, and if you want to keep being friends with them, you don't want to be the one to tell them.
personally, if i were being cruel, id like to know. but sometimes people don't. and that's ok, i think? im not really sure, im still learning.
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sometimes i feel like my trauma doesn't count because my friends have it way worse and there's no way mine could have inflicted all the flaws i think it did on me if it didn't on them, so maybe im just fundamentally broken. but maybe being fundamentally broken is ok. im not really sure
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ugh im so sick of feeling like this i just want my friends to like me im going insane
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December 16, 1930
The early diary of Anaïs Nin, 1903-1977
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