This isn't about you.

I've gotten quite good at not feeling. Or perhaps its just ignoring how I'm feeling. I disappoint people a lot. I expect too much. I don't think I really expect anything. I just want to curl up and tear my heart out. I want to cry but I can't. I want to be wanted but I'm not. I'm forgotten. I want to be forgiven but I never will be. I'm sinking because I make stupid mistakes and don't put first who deserves that place.

Tuesday. Fear. Excitement. Too much expectation. Perhaps I'll rescind. Perhaps I can't do this. Summer has this awful nostalgia of lonely pain attached to it. I love summer, but bad things always seem to happen in the heat. It can't be taken back, so move on.

I can't believe you put your ridiculous, childish feelings before my shock and confusion. It was never about you. It's not always about you. I won't try and change you. And perhaps who you are isn't right for me.