Secret Life of an Anonymous Teen

I’m getting tired of helping you during your periods of anger, your times of sadness, when you don’t even do the same for me.  I just wish you’d get over yourself.

Because one of these days, I will.  I don’t know if I can handle you anymore.  All you do is make me cry.

And damn right you should feel guilty.

That mental picture of you kissing her, hugging her.  Of all those texts…I love you’s, good mornings :)

I can’t stand this anymore.

I don’t want to be with you anymore.

Go away.

You have no idea how much I just want to actually blow up in your face.  How much I just want to rant and rage and yell at you.

Not going to lie.

You have way too many double standards.

That’s all.

Didn’t I tell you that I liked other guys?  

I had a life before you, you know.  Sure, I thought some celebrities were cute, but I’m not/I wasn’t some hard core fan girl obsessed person.  I just thought, hey, they’re kinda cute, and that was it.

I picked you.

I haven’t left you on account of what you did before.

I haven’t left you in general.

You suck.

And not in a good way.

You’re hanging out with two girls you used to like.

You.

And two girls you used to like.

AND you’re going to Hooter’s.

WTF.  F*CK YOU.

I bared my soul to you.  I confessed everything.  I sacrificed my very self, my deepest, darkest secrets to you.

And all you do is continue hurting me. 

I know it’s not beneficial for me to stay with you, but I’m doing it out of sheer human persistence.  And possibly some stupidity too.  

And because I love you, which can be the same thing as stupidity.

I don’t know how much longer I can bear this relationship, _____.  All you do is continue testing my limits, as I myself do the same.

I am not sure how much more I can continue this…this lying, telling you I’m okay when in reality, it’s like I said, ____: I am broken.  I do not know what it is I want, or if it is what everyone wants of me.  I am too weak to be myself, yet I rely on you to be my strength, yet you make me the strong one.

I am broken, _____.  I love you, and yet I loathe you.  Stop making me test my morals, test my wants, my desires.  Let me be the person I want to be, and let yourself be the same man I fell in love with, the same man who is my best friend.

Be my best friend before my boyfriend.

I don’t know how I’m supposed to be around you.  

Because I’d rather you would’ve just told me.  Do you love her?  You told her you did.  And you told me the same thing.  

Because I really don’t think you can love two people at the same time.  I really do believe that.  And that whole, if you love two people, pick the second; because if you really loved the first person, you wouldn’t have fallen in love with the other.

I really don’t think it’s possible to love two people like that at the same time.  Unless one person is dead, and you’re moving on.  Or just moving on in general.  

Cheating is never acceptable, but I’m working on accepting your flaws.  

Please, prove me wrong; don’t lie to me again.  I can’t stand all this pain and lying to you about it. 

About how broken I still am.  About how much I torture myself with paranoia, wondering if you’re lying to me right now.  If you’re still talking to her.  Telling her you love her.  You don’t know how much I question why I’m still with you.  All these possible situations…I wonder if you really, truly love me, or if you’re just saying that to placate me, to patronize me, because you’re actually staying with me out of guilt.

Because I’m not that amazing.

I am an average girl.  I am one of the masses.  I do not say any of this to evoke pity, merely to place my thoughts out of my head, as opposed to them killing my head.  I have no distinguishing qualities.  I am not stunning/gorgeous/a beauty, nor am I the ugliest thing you’ve ever seen.  I am not smart, but I am not an idiot.  I am not the most talkative/friendly person, but I can talk and be nice.  I am not a bitch, yet neither am I a person to walked over.  

Simply speaking, I am me.  And she is forever the other girl.  Or at least, I hope she’ll remain the other girl, and not become “yours.”  

I hope that you will not let me down, that you will prove me wrong, and not lie to me.  I hope you will stay faithful and true.  I hope that you will remain mine, and I yours.

It’s not your place to tell me how to feel.

And you don’t know me at all, obviously.

I’m not sad.

I’m pissed off.

Get a clue.