I realized, I've never felt like more of a misfit. More uncomfortable, more out of my element.
And sitting here, I've never felt more alone, misunderstood, or isolated.
If you're judging me because of the mascara trails on my face right now, remember your judgements
next time tears are rolling down your cheeks. Human.
My family never used to bother me, but I never was fully hit by the constant nitpicking and negative shit-talk. Now I have to play a part at every fucking social gathering because of the downpour of disapproving glances and whispers. Just because you're blood doesn't mean you have any right to say whatever you want. That's crap. Honestly there are probably only three people who could come close to comforting me right now. I don't know what to do. I literally feel so entirely lost and weak, and angry at my helplessness. Some sort of shameful, teary violence and desperate protectiveness. What the fuck? I'm not even making any sense.
I want out of this room, of this city, of this feeling.
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