Walking in through those doors at 8:30 in the morning was not exactly what I was up for. As soon as I reached the top of the stairs I felt it - &I was looking for you. It was the same feeling I've always gotten when I'm waiting or looking for someone &it hurt me. I thought about it so much that by the end of the day while I was waiting for the bus it stabbed me 16 thousand times in the abdomen. I wish I could have been better. I wish I was good enough then - because I doubt you'd look at me now. I'm a little better but nobody sees it, at the same time I'm a little worse too but for other reasons. Getting compliments helps my mood but does not control me for an entire day - they eventually wear out &become boring. Old news. I wanted to be perfect &now that I am: who is going to notice?
Disclaimer
It is your choice whether or not to read this diary. The most I can ask is that you do not question me about it - I would rather not know if you have been reading it at all or even how you came to find it. Everything I have posted in this diary is what I had been thinking at the exact time I posted it. This diary is for me personally, and me alone. If I have written something you dislike: stop reading.
