There’s one thing I hate the most about myself. I don’t know how to describe it, maybe there’s a word for it. I find I have feelings for someone and next minute I realise I didn’t like them as much as I thought. People must think I’m a slut, I know my friends do. One of them said something along those lines to me. The one person I could’ve been with, the one person which makes my heart melt when I watch him sing his favourite songs, talk and talk about music, make fun of my height, I missed that chance. I missed my chance and there’s no way of it coming back because you like someone else. Everyday I have to listen to you go on and on about her and how you can’t talk to her and the amount of times I’ve helped you out with her, I’m just digging my own emotional heart-straining grave. We both have someone else in mind now, but I’m so different from mine. I want you. But I can’t have you, and I just have to sit here and watch you watching her in adoration, I just have to listen to you talk about how pretty and kind she is, how all round amazing she is, how she likes the same music to you even though we have more things in common musically, how her dad likes the same bands as you, how she waves at you in Spanish classes. Sometimes I think you might just still have feelings for me. I don’t talk about who I’m into at the moment because you’ve told me countless times you despise the guy. How you dont wanna listen to me talk about him and I shouldn’t try bringing him up because you don’t wanna hear it if it has to do with him. There’s so much more I could type, but at this rate it would be a novel. If only I could tell you all of this in person, if only I could begin to tell you everything on here. But I’m glad you’ll probably never see this. I’m glad you won’t see how cowardly I am confessing on a website and making people believe that I just like whoever comes by. I just want to be loved, especially by you. If only by you.