#bad**

When your friend stops talking to you so suddenly you're a little kid again and you're curled up on your bedroom floor because nobody wants to be your friend no matter how hard you try. And you can't figure out what's wrong with you.

When your friend doesn't want to be your friend anymore so suddenly you're twelve disassociating and making up friends in your head to talk to. Inventing banter and love between them because you know you'll never have it.

When your friend suddenly stops talking to you because they've got someone better and you're fourteen asking your best friend to tell you her least favorite traits about you so you can change all of them.

I don't blame anyone, not really.

It was never, ever their fault. Sometimes I think that maybe I just wasn't born to be loved dearly and that's okay.

Well, it's not. But it's not their fault. I can't hold them accountable.

I wish I could cut all the unlovable parts out of myself. Because I've already pushed every limit. I've poured hours into studies and crafts and being fun to be around.

I've stopped complaining when I feel things are wrong. I never express sadness and I never speak up if something is making me feel bad because I love my friends but god why can't they love me too?

Is it so bad to want to be held dear and loved?

I can't even type things out, let alone write them because I don't want to complain. I don't want to say what I'm feeling because what if it makes someone else feel bad. What if I'm being an attention whore. What if this makes people hate me more (even though none of them are even on Tumblr)

I just don't care. I have to get this out of my system and somewhere where someone else can see even though I know no one likely will. I feel like I'm suffocating.

What's the point of human existence if not to love and be loved? And if I can't do either of those things, if I can't be the lovely presence in someone's life, then what the hell is the point of my existence?