You make me sick. Look at me. I'm a mere child, do you not see the advantage you took? The way you ruined us. You ruined what I was planning. What I was hoping for.
I'll be starting high school on Tuesday. A new school with new chances and new people, but of course, same old reputation.
I feel confused, and angry. I've been waiting for you to mess up. Waiting and praying, so when you do, I can drop you on your ass the same way you did to me. I was waiting for you to slip up when I realized, I'm breaking my own heart, I yearn for heartache, and I don't know why. Do I feed off anger and pain? I don't really. The anger I used to hold over you made my writing come easier, keeping to myself easier and feeling pain harder. The way you used to make me feel allowed me to keep things from you without wanting to blurt them out so you could help me.
You beautiful boys have no idea. You beautiful boys.