My Thoughts

Not too sure

Honestly I sit at home thinking of a different person every week. It's not healthy, or fair on others. I want that person to think the same of me, and quite frankly I don't think they do. I'm not too sure. I'm laying in my bed, tears in my eyes, thinking about how I could've made the last time I saw them better or what opportunities I missed. Just beating myself up over stuff I can't change. I spend the first hours of my day trying to make myself as presentable and happy as possible so this weeks star doesn't have to deal with me when I'm being a stroppy piece of shit.

I strap the mask to my face and fall out of my front door. I stumble down the stairs and through the car park. I run my eyes and slap my face to wake me up. I didn't sleep well. I've been worrying too much about people who didn't think once let alone twice about me. I've been hoping that the people who abandoned me will come back and help me out the home they dropped me in. I lean back against the bus stop and stare down the road. My hands are stuffed in my pockets so people can't see them clenched and red. I put in hours of work this morning but will they care, I'm not too sure.

I rest my head against the window pane on the bus. My left leg resting on my right one with my hands holding my phone awaiting a message from them. I've spoke to them twice, this is our first time meeting. I'm still hoping for some sort of fantasy situation. Sat in the woods and we look and stare for a moment at each other. Well that's just silly. I sigh and stare down at my feet. My face scrunches ip and I rub my eyes again, keeping myself awake.  I hope I get that fantasy. If not this week then next week. Or the week after. I'm not too sure.