Tuesday, December 30, 2008

My brother's an alcoholic.

I'm worried that I'll become one, too.
When I get dressed up to go out and feel really good about myself, I feel invincible. I want to have a good time with my friends, have a drink, and laugh. Why does a woman enjoying herself immediately translate to "Please hit on me. I desperately want it." ?

A part of me likes the attention. But when you're leering at my ass and breasts, you're just being creepy. So stop it.
I hate myself for saying "I love you" back. I don't know if you ever meant it, and I still don't know if I meant it or not. I don't know if love is anything more than lust.

I hate that I don't want to be in a relationship with anyone anymore. If you could leave me without any warning, when I thought things were so good, then why wouldn't it happen again?

Most days, I am glad we don't talk anymore, and I never want to see you again. Ever. I'm not sure what I would do if I saw you -- I think I would burst into tears. It's easier pretending you don't exist. Most days...

Most of all, I hate that I still love you, after everything we said and did to hurt each other.

Comment Here to Submit a Secret 12/30/08