| 12:27a |
Sitting and feeling sorry for myself. I rant "I hate you" every time I see myself in the mirror. I stare at myself for ten minutes at a time, seeing every line, every wrinkle, every blotch and pore, and I hate myself more. I've drenched myself in loathing and hatred, and all I can do now is sit here, wishing I was some one else, and feeling hopeless that I ever will be.
I'm feeling...sad, and betrayed. Self conscious, afraid, needy. I'm hurt, by something that I shouldn't batt an eye lash at. I'm being too sensitive, but it's nice to know I wasn't missed. I prefered thinking that she was just studying very hard, rather than to read that the "only thing" she "really missed" was the map, which I understand completely. She shouldn't have to watch her words, it's her damned journal, but yeah. Should and would don't ammount to anything, and they don't keep me from hurting. I'm over sensitive, I know, my journal--I can rant as I damn well please.
*sighs* I'm not even up to ranting. I'm not worth it, I know. Has there gotten to be that little? Or am I just expecting that much? Not even a mention. Oh well. I do'nt mean that much, and I should stop thinking that I do.
God, I can't keep going over this. >.< IT's tearing me up, for nothing more than one fucking sentence in a journal. How pathetic is that? I'm too obsessive, and there are plenty of other things to be obsessive over than what some one else did or didn't mean. I've got a mirror to go sneer into.
Current Mood: disgusted |