I'm that friend from the sitcom. Or the romance movie. Sometimes I'm the main character and sometimes I'm just the mess of a best friend that's toxic to the main character so I lose my bestie. In either case, I lose the people I love.
It happens because I refuse to open about my insecurities, about the fact that they get to be happy and I don't. They get to be loved and I don't. The difference between the movies and right now is that it's not my fault anymore. I've put myself out there, I'm just not good enough.
So in the movie I'm the 28 year old friend who's friends all got married or are in serious healthy relationships while I'm just here pretending I'm ok when I'm not. Crying on the couch with my dog while watching rom-com's on Netflix with a bottle of red wine and some chips.
In reality I'm a sad 15 year old that's not even good enough to be 16 like everyone else. Not smart enough to be liked by the smart cookies and not stupid enough to be part of the delinquents when all of my friends keep making promises that even them know are empty. I'm not gonna find love because I'm not worth it. And for some reason I'm too stupid to come to terms with that..
I wanna be happy for them, and I am. But I feel so guilty about being jealous. THEYRE ALOUD TO BE HAPPY MAÏA, ITS NOT THEIR GODAMN FAULT YOUR A MISERABLE PIECE OF SHIT.
That's what Anne keeps saying. Make it stop.
YOU ARE READING
Whatever
RomanceA collection of stories, all in different formats, about life. There is no end goal, only truth, pain, lust, joy, sarcasm, irony and self awareness. Tread lightly as this story mentions some of my experience with SA. Good luck 🤞
