//Hey what's good abocabos? Sorry that it takes me legit 50 million years to update but I've rewritten this chapter about 30 times and still don't really like it but bear with me.\\
Shea's POV
What do I think of myself? How do I value myself? That doesn't make any sense. It's a stupid question to ask. I hate it when other people look down on me, of course. But I talk shit about myself all the time. I never really thought that it mattered. I just kind of assumed that it was fine for me to say those things to myself. It's self-reflection, right? I'm just going back and thinking about myself. What did I do that day? Most of the time I messed around and got into some trouble with some friendly, neighborhood bitch but whatever. I'd then talk shit to myself and say that I should have used some better judgment and then we move on. After my session with Dr.Martin, I realized that maybe, just maybe, I'm okay. I'm special. I'm important.
Hey - call me back when you get thisOr when you've got a minuteWe really need to talkWait - you know whatMaybe just forget it'Cause by the time you get thisYour number might be blocked
"Stay" and "bla bla bla"
You just want what you can't haveNo wayI'll call the copsIf you don't stop, I'll call your dad
And I hate to do this to you on your birthday
Happy birthday by the way"It's not you, it's me" and all that other bullshitYou know that's bullshitDon'tcha', babe?I'm not your party favor.
// wow guess what I updated. See you later my abocabos sorry this is really short. I'll try writing another chapter tomorrow and it should be longer.||
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I'm just a girl. ~ A lesbian story.
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