Tuesday, 14th April 2015 - 1:43pm
I hate spending time with friends. That sounded terrible, but it's true. Because they distract you, make you forget about the shit-hole you live in. Then suddenly your time together is brought to a close and you must return to said shit-hole. That heavy jealousy and dread that washes over you...
I wish I could just leave. Pack a bag, get my money stash, say a few bitchy goodbyes and leave. I hate this place.
And being with friends just makes it worse in a way because you realise that their parents don't hate them and you hate them for having a normalish life.
I sound petty. But it's true.
I hate listening to people say that they hate their parents because they wouldn't get them that new pair of shoes or let them go to a party. I hate it because they make that sound like the end of the world. All I can say is at least:
A) your parents love you
B) your parents are alive
Because I know people who suffer worse than myself but they can see real happiness.
And I envy them the most.
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The Diary of a "Happy" Girl
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