The only reason I can be sure this isn't my sick head feeling and writing this is that I've felt it for months, years even. It just that sick head that is allowing it to be written. I feel as if no one really actually cares about me, not in a genuine way. After all, wouldn't they try to talk more often, ask what's up, send along invitations, ( Read more... )

You've got your finger on the pulse.
I've got mine just under it.
I can't imagine eating happily with everyone like that.
I can't imagine my best friend being my lover.

 
Did it always come consistently for you?
I'd be surprised if it didn't.
You'll all marry her soon, I know.

My quirky awkward too much ness might be overwhelming.
But I hope not.

Oh. Is that how you look at it? Maybe that is how you feel?

"I never left you.
You never let me go."

Now I'm afraid of butterflies.

 "It's takes four days to get to like me but two to want to leave" : never ceases to be true.

I really shouldn't be so self conscious. What in the world do I have to be self conscious about? Probably not the things that I should be self conscious about. Self doubt is a killer after all.

 All implication.

 I'm only going to state this self deprication once. Why am I not invited, why aren't the friendly comments made to me, why does this keep happening, do you think I always want to be alone, do you think I don't need friends, do you think I don't notice, do you think it doesn't hurt, am I not likable?