...I'm sorry, everyone.
But I just can't deal with everything. Every time I'm in a bad situation, I always blame myself even when I know I didn't start it. I try not to be depressed, but I gave up a LONG fucking time ago.
When should I kill myself?
Why am I even here?
Every time someone tries to help, I always end up pushing them away.
Why the fuck am I here?
Why am I not good enough?
Why am I not 'pretty' or 'attractive'?
Why do I even try?
Why am I still alive?
I know y'all tell me that its gonna be okay and that y'all are helping, but do you guys hope that I die someday?
Because if so, here's all I have to say to you.
Darling, im trying..
ESTÁS LEYENDO
ɪ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴀᴍᴇʀɪᴄᴀɴ • ʀᴀɴᴅᴏᴍ ʙᴏᴏᴋ
Short Story!!NOTICE!! THIS USED TO BE MY VENT BOOK, SO IF YOU DONT WANT TO READ VENTS, SKIP TO CHAPTER 42 EDIT: this turned back into my vent book lmao EDIT EDIT: lmao what even is this book anymore
