i miss you.
i think soon you're not going to talk to me at all. you talk to me less and less.
i see you in the mornings and that makes me happy. i see you in english and sometimes that makes me happy if i can stop watching you rub her shoulders and if you talk to me and generally acknowledge my existence and if you don't forget to say good bye to me. i miss you. i miss you. when i walk to art i almost always feel like i want to cry. because i know i won't see you and you don't talk to me when i get home and you don't talk to me in the morning and i miss you i miss you i miss you. and i can't afford to be as needy as her because i'm not perfect like she is so i have to not notice that you barely to talk to me or at least sort of pretend it doesn't make me want to die because you're one of the only things that makes me happy even though i have almost everything i could ever want. i don't know why i'm not happy with what i have. maybe i just need to try harder. i know i'm over-privileged. and i know i'm a whore. sometimes i want you to ******** me so badly. i'm upper ******** middle class white naturally intelligent doesn't have to try talented the only things i'm not are the things that would actually make people like me. but i don't care if people like me so long as you like me. because i want you. i want you you you and this doesn't work. this doesn't goddamn ******** work for me; it's ******** bullshit i can't afford to want you and there's no goddamn rationale for it so ******** you.
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