I am not perfect, but I would like to be. I would like to be as likable as I can be. I would like to like myself. I think I love myself, but I can't bring myself to like myself right now. Thinking back to most of my thoughts, my actions, my words; I feel ashamed. I don't want to feel that way ever. I want to actively work towards winning my heart back.
I've been rejecting myself. I don't care if I am pretentious; I don't care if I am a dreamer, a faker, a naive angst-ridden child. I want to like myself and that's all that matters right now.
I can't blame him because it is not his fault. I'm not sure anything was ever anyone's fault. I don't like the person I have become since meeting him. I hate my negativity. I used to think he brought out my bitterness, but I think that's mine alone. I think I only saw it clearer through him.
We are still dating. I've let go of all thoughts of consequences and whatnot. Everything I've warned myself about, everything I've thought to be wrong about us - they're only thoughts now. Sometimes those thoughts reach me. I get glimpses of them during fights, during dinner, when my hormones are raging. I think of them sometimes. It's unfair to both of us.
I love the moments we share, but I hate the thought of the future. I don't want to be a part of it. I just want to escape it. He knows it, even though he will never admit it. I run away from the monsters; he pretends they aren't even there.
I can't blame him because it is not his fault. I'm not sure anything was ever anyone's fault. I don't like the person I have become since meeting him. I hate my negativity. I used to think he brought out my bitterness, but I think that's mine alone. I think I only saw it clearer through him.
We are still dating. I've let go of all thoughts of consequences and whatnot. Everything I've warned myself about, everything I've thought to be wrong about us - they're only thoughts now. Sometimes those thoughts reach me. I get glimpses of them during fights, during dinner, when my hormones are raging. I think of them sometimes. It's unfair to both of us.
I love the moments we share, but I hate the thought of the future. I don't want to be a part of it. I just want to escape it. He knows it, even though he will never admit it. I run away from the monsters; he pretends they aren't even there.
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