Don't tell me what to do.
Don't tell me who to be.
Don't tell me what to feel.

If I'm crying, don't tell me to stop.

She still bothers me.
It bothers me that you talk to her.
Bothers me even more that you would talk to her for help rather than me.
Bothers me still.
Dammit.

No. Just no.

Bitch, please.
Stay the fuck out of my life.

You aren't perfect.
Never have been.
Not even close.

You aren't better than me.
Stop dreaming.
You've got plenty faults of your own.

You can't bring me down.
Not with your tattle-tale ways.
Not with your insults, your snide, cruel remarks.

You are a bitch.
Get the fuck over yourself.

Don't lie to me or do things behind my back.

It still hurts like a bitch.

Whoops

"Hi. Today, I remembered that I'd told myself I would blog every day... And that I hadn't blogged in a while. Whoops."

I've thought about it countless times before. I argue about it with myself constantly. I talk to others about it often. I've even blogged about it a few times before.

Is it wrong to feel jealous?

The smallest of things can set me off, but I don't dare mention them to anyone else...

Am I selfish? Am I childish? Am I immature?

Am I wrong?

sigh.

goodbye
ttyl. :)

P.S- I lied. She It really does bother me.