I hate nights like this!
I don’t even know why I ask you things about way back then. You make sure to tiptoe around the things you know I’ll hate, but keep things so vague that you’re not technically lying but also to the point that the worrying and wondering gets to me in the worst way. Like you know what I want to know, and avoid it so I can just tear myself apart over it.
She’s just you made over. I see why you are so close now. Why you became such good friends out of nowhere so long ago. Cool story, glad I got to hear it from you.
I swear, I know exactly how to make myself sick over things that shouldn’t matter.
I need a plush triceratops. I will name him Mr. Cryceratops and when I get sad and cry he’ll gobble up my tears and make them all go away and then I can squeeze him tight and feel okay. He will love me and listen to me and not judge me. He will give me quiet unbiased understanding. That’s all I need.
People think it’s fun to pretend you’re a monster;
Me, I spend my life pretending I’m not.