this is depressing

Maybe it is because I can’t seem to love myself, people never want to love me.
—  Late night thoughts #56
You once made me fall asleep with a smile on my face. You now make me fall asleep with a tear stained pillow and a broken heart.
Some friends don’t understand this. They don’t understand how desperate I am to have someone say, I love you and I support you just the way you are because you’re wonderful just the way you are. They don’t understand that I can’t remember anyone ever saying that to me. I am so demanding and difficult for my friends because I want to crumble and fall apart before them so that they will love me even though I am no fun, lying in bed, crying all the time, not moving. Depression is all about if you loved me you would.
—  Prozac Nation – the most relatable quote in the history of quotes
I want you to tell me about every person you’ve ever been in love with. Tell me why you loved them and why they loved you. Tell me about a day in your life that you didn’t think you’d live through. Tell me about what the word ‘home’ means to you and tell me in a way that I’ll know your mother’s name just by the way you describe your bedroom you had when you were 8. See, I wanna know the first time you felt the weight of hate and if that day still trembles beneath your bones. Do you prefer to play in puddles of rain or dance in the bellies of snow? And if you were to build a snowman, would you rip two branches from a tree to give your snowman arms? Or would you leave your snowman armless for the sake of being harmless to the tree? And if you would, would you notice that the tree weeps for you because your snowman has no arms to hug you every time you kiss him on the cheek? Do you kiss your friends on the cheek? Do you sleep beside them when they’re sad, even if it makes your lover mad? Do you think that anger is a sincere emotion or just the timid of a fragile heart trying to beat away its pain? See, I wanna know what you think of your first name. And if you often lie awake at night and imagine your mother’s joy when she spoke it for the very first time. I want you to tell me all the ways you’ve been unkind. Tell me all the ways you’ve been cruel. See I want to know more than what you do for a living. I want to know how much of your life you spend just giving. And if you love yourself enough to also receive sometimes. I wanna know if you bleed sometimes through other peoples wounds. I want to know about you.