so, it's your birthday. Wow. You're sixteen. Congrats. I hope your new girl makes you happy, because according to you, I never did.
That's totally fine though, that didn't hurt like a knife slicing my neck. It didn't feel even close to the razor that I've dragged across my legs, my stomach, or my thighs, so congratulations, you could never hurt me more than I could hurt myself.
But anyways, I know she makes you happier than I ever could. I'm sorry that I wasn't what you wanted, or, needed rather.
YOU ARE READING
Hazy Nights
أدب المراهقينSpring had lost everything she had ever worked for. These are her daily entries from her journal that she had begun writing inside of in early January of 2015 - September 2015.
