Of course I am and I never show gratitude, right? Nope, I'm a fucking bitch to you.
Why else would I clean, make food, stay with you, and try to be accommodating and let it blow up in my face because I'm socially awkward and suck at communicating. Hence, trying to show rather than verbally convey. I don't get along with correctly and effectively expressing my feelings.
No, I do all of that because I hate you.
Ugh.
Moron.
Yes, you are one. I let you and tell you things I swore I'd take to my grave. Things that make me feel ashamed. Or I feel I should feel ashamed for. I opened that closet side me because I hate you, right? Because I'm unhappy, right?
Moron.
I love you to pieces and I'm scared. I don't think you know wtf you're doing either. We'll get it and understand each other, possibly.
My inner ramblings and struggles.
I was never this little girl.
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