you broke me

She needed to talk to someone. Anyone. But they wouldn't understand. Right? Maybe they'd complain about her talking about herself too much. No. She couldn't talk to anyone about this... this feeling that was eating away at her day and night. It sat there consistently, rotting away what was left of her happiness. Ruining friendships, relationships, skills, motivation, anything keeping her alive. It was all gone. And she was alone. Again. She just wanted to snap out of it. Go back to the way things were. Before this... feeling overtook her life. But it was too late. They all hated her now. She fucked up and now she was sitting underneath the Hollywood sign, alone, drinking an Arizona Iced Tea on a Friday night. She knew they were together. She wanted to hate them for being together without her but she knew she couldn't. It was her fault. She fucked up. How was she supposed to expect them to want to be with her after she pushed them away time and time again?