That's What You Think

15. almost every night, i cry myself to sleep. because of you, you and you. but i can’t say anything, because if i did, you probably won’t care and just think i’m paranoid. or maybe you just won’t even care to ask why. i’m sick of hiding. i’m sick of feeling left out, more than half the time. i’m sick of crying all the time. i’m sick of you three. and you, you’re just a fucking hypicrite. the three of you are supposed to be my ‘best friends’, but for now, all i can say is just go die and rot in hell. period.