Hey, btw. I’m over this. I want out. I want out. I want out.
Marijuana is literally tearing my parents marriage apart. I feel the need to fix things, my dad feels the need to lie about everything, my sister wants to make everything about herself and my mom just wants to feel like someone cares. I can’t do any of this for any of them. I can’t find a way to fit my sister into every equation or make sure that she’s thought of enough. I can’t deal with my dad’s lying all the time, over the littlest things, stupid things. I can’t seem to make my mom happy with herself no matter how hard I try. She’s literally the only person I never want to let down, but I feel like I do it all the time, no matter what. She’s so upset with her life. I don’t blame her. I’m so afraid of what’s going to happen. She keeps saying, “Don’t worry, after tomorrow, none of this will matter.” I can’t help but to fear the worst, and I cannot live without her. I need her and I don’t think she’ll ever really understand how much I mean that when I say it. She thinks I’m just putting on a show, to try and make her happy: she thinks I’m lying.
Reblog if you’re from Alabama…
So I can follow you folks.
This is where I am.
I honestly thought we were getting back to normal. I let you have your space, I tried to keep us as friends, and now I’m just stuck. Fucking stuck. According to your friends, you think I’m still trying, but I’m not. I just not. I don’t want it, neither do you. I know that, I accepted it the day you told me you didn’t have feelings anymore, but apparently that’s just “what you say to bitches after you have sex and you’re done with them.” That’s how New Orleans goes, also from the mouth of your friends. Why the hell does it have to go this way. I’ve never been in any relationship in which we weren’t friends afterwards. I didn’t plan on stopping now, but I guess everything stops eventually. If it’s what you want fine. We’ll go with it. I’ll delete your number, your facebook, your skype, your email, your memories, your kiss, the first time we had sex, the first time we met, the first time we hung out. I’ll do it, but it’s not what I want. I wanted to make this work, you lost feelings. I wanted to try. You didn’t. I never protested, until now. I’m not losing you as a friend. You know me, and I let you in. I guess I should’ve warned you. I shouldn’t have done this at all. I could never mean as much to you as you did to me, and I knew that going into it. I guess it’s always been just a matter of time til we were here; me, here, in my dorm, crying while you’re at home, partying, oblivious to what I’m thinking or feeling. But it’s alright, you don’t have to be aware anymore. We’re finished. Until we figure this out, goodbye.