my hopes are so high that your kiss might kill me

so won't you kill me. So I die happy.
Mood: Kinda crappy.
Listening To: "Hands Down" by Dashboard Confessional.
Reading: It's Kind of a Funny Story by Ned Vizzini.

So.

Things went pretty much downhill from Saturday morning.

The date was hard. Realizing that the guy you're crushing on so hard doesn't like you at all in return is difficult to come to terms with. You feel like a failure, and you feel so hopeless. I know it's not the end of the world, I know there's someone out there for me.

But it's so dang hard right now.

And then I came home and my mother said, "You wore that? I can't believe you."
I was wearing shorts, knee-high socks, pink hi-tops, a maroon shirt, and a dark green jacket. My hair was half-up and curly because I hadn't had time to straighten it. I hadn't seen anything wrong when I left the house. I wore makeup for heaven's sakes.

But she went on to inform me why boys didn't like me. She decided to tell me everything that was wrong with the way I did everything. I had decided that the whole boy thing wasn't going to bother me. But then when she said all these things, it bothered me. And she asked if I would rather she not care.

Please don't care. I don't want to hear this anymore. I'm not doing anything wrong, they just don't like me, that's all.

So I went to bed and cried.

The next morning was a mess. That afternoon was worse. She proceeded to tell me that she hoped my plane would crash when I went to New York so that she wouldn't have to deal with me anymore.

Thanks, mom. Please don't come to the funeral.

And so today, we've ignored each other.
I've felt like dirt.

So it was a great date. Let me tell you.

"There's no pretense here. I happpen to be genuinely self-absorbed and deeply shallow."
-Fiyero, Wicked.

<|3 = brittany