I went to bed so dramatically last night, but woke up with a lingering question, why am i so angry? it's not as if i'd rather be alone, no i wouldn't, i'm happy to have a friend, but maybe the issue is a combination of things, on one side its me, i am angry at the world and so therefore i must anger the world, that much i understand, its not right and i need to stop but i atleast understand, for the second part, i think I just wanted something more from her, I think it frustrates me that she can't be a certain person for me, I sometimes wonder, if I liked me, if i was okay and good and solid, would we have anything to talk about? I don't know how awful that is, but I don't think it means i don't like her, i think it just means that i'm settling for less than i deserve.
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Until she was happy
PoetryHappiness is a privilege and i talk deep so this whole book is a possible trigger warning. Don't look at this as a way to find peace in your darkness, this doesn't offer that, look unto this as a way to hurt with someone else, and find peace in the...
