You don’t get it, do you?
You could have so easily been me.
I could have been like you.
But I’m not.
You’re happy and healthy and loved.
I’m just a bother.
So you want to know why I do what I do and say what I say? Fine!
Because my whole life’s been pretend and I can’t fake it anymore.
I have to hate him. I have to make myself hate him.
Because I die a little every single time I see him,
Every single time he looks and me.
Because I know the way he looks at you
And he will never look at me like that.
So I have to hate him because I can’t love him anymore.
It hurts too much and no matter how hard I try to hate him
The hurting never stops.
I’d never be good enough for him anyway.