Baby Bump (butchercup)

Not a chapter

I ran into my old diary the other day and I was pretty impressed by what I wrote down. So I decided to just post it. Why? I don't know. I just felt like it. I wrote this in my last year in high school, it's mostly just my sad thoughts when I was going through a lot.
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I was taught something today and this time I didn't like it. I was taught never to trust anyone.
Its funny to them to see a broken girl and think she's okay. Its easy to think its just mood swings but what she feels inside are words no one wants to hear. So please just stop asking what's wrong because each time you do her tear ducts become heavier.
I don't like it when you think I am fake and I don't like it when you think I pretend just because I am not the girl you want me to be. I'm not the girl that would sit on your lap like it's normal, I am not the girl to say, 'yes' to a guy she doesn't like. I am not the girl to blush and say 'I love you too' just because you said those meaningless words to me.

To my admirer, How many times? How many times would you push me down and watch me get up only to pretend like it never happened? Like the scars would just fade.
Yes, I get it you like me. But why do you hurt me so much just to prove that you do? Forgiving you would have been easy because I liked you too once upon a time but you only want me in the shadows. Sometimes you push me away just for fun but you don't know my insecurities don't know the meaning of fun.

To my not best friend, it hurts so much to write this, yours is the hardest to pour out my feelings and also the hardest to hide back the tears. Are you my best friend? No, Did I think you were? Yes. We have a lot in common, we hang out, we get each other, we fancy the same things and you know little about me.
When I try to make myself believe you aren't my bestie you pull me back into the cage again. Our laughs were real or my laugh was real anyway, having a lot in common is fake though. I try to tell you things about me that friends should at least know but you sometimes make me wonder if we are at all. I can't help staring at you without feeling betrayed. I like watching you have fun but sometimes I feel like you mock those of us who have no one to stand up for us or those who always give a fuck about things said behind our backs. The truth is, I will always be jealous of you.

To the guy I like, I have messages left unanswered. I still wait and hope for your reply even after a month that it has been seen. I can't call you a crush because I know my crushes expire after a week, I can tell why I like them but for you, I can't. You ignore me, you hit me, you make me feel like you hate me. It makes me wonder what you say behind my back.
I don't really want to know, if I do, the tiny bit of a social life I'm still hanging unto will slip. I would all let it go and that day I would become an Android. The only difference is that androids don't cry.

This is not actually the end of my sad tales. I have seven pages more of it, I just want to stop here so I can get working on the next chapter. I am missing Butch already. So tell me what you think about my diary and know all this is real, I actually felt this way.