While at Barnes and Noble today I tried my first latte. Obviously, I’m not used to the caffeine intake because, not even half way done with the smallest size Starbucks had I wandered around the store aimlessly feeling like a crack addict being paranoid that paparazzi was following me.
I heard my mom mention some things to her which made me upset. She used to tell me those things, why doesn’t she now? Jealousyis a disease. It’s from all the walking she says. And the worst part is, she’s happy with herself. I’m not. And never will be. Choking up this evening, I wanted to be embraced by mother and let her know how I feel. To get her attention I sulked across the living room. She cam in while I was taking a bubble bath demanding why I was so upset. I told her how I felt sobbing. I just wanted a hug, but instead I got a stressed out mother telling me I need help. She said that I’m a skeleton and I’m just as small as her. LIAR. She then said that she wants to take me to the doctor tomorrow morning. I just wanted a hug. I just wanted a hug. I just wanted a hug. And reassurance.
So telling my best friend all this, again I just wanted reassurance. Instead she assures me that we can get fat all through high school and lose it before prom. The hell? Does she not realize that’s the absolute worst thing you could tell me? And then I told her about my spontaneous crying sprees, and she tells me I need to behave so I can go over to her house to watch Jersey Shore. I want someone who understands me. But then again, maybe I should just deal with it by myself, because I’d probably just be jealous of them.
I just want to go cry in my mothers arms right now. But she’s watching a movie with her right now.
Thank you! Yes, they’re all mine, since my mom has a different shoe size.