One day all your old best friends are going to stop talking to you. And that girl that you had your first crush on will move away. And your childhood pet will finally sink into their last dream. It makes you think.
It makes you think about how shitty it all really is. Yeah, things are kind of looking up, but you can’t have the careless wonder you did in your childhood. There are no more knights to defend your castle (they couldn’t stand being around you anymore). And you’ll feel hollow and lonely and just foolish. Everybody goes through this, right? You should be happy. Things could be worse. And you finally found somebody that you can be happy with but all you can do is think about how you’re just awful to them and why they haven’t left you yet.
And I guess you could say that you started thinking like that the first time you were picked last for the kickball game, or how you didn’t get invited to that slumber party, or maybe it was the way that somebody you used to be close to would stop talking to you altogether. That maybe you weren’t good enough, or maybe you never were. You’ll think that you’re over it, that it won’t hurt you anymore. But you’ll see an old picture, drive by an old hang out, or smell an old smell, and then you realize—it never really stops hurting.
It hasn’t yet.
— maybe i’m just being nostalgic//excerpt from a book i’ll never write #44