Okay, so I have some excess energy to burn out because a) i will not stop regretting history today. like could i not have picked, i don’t know, SIMPLE TOPIC like ANIME???

What the fuck were you thinking, last-night-Jesse

Oh, that’s right, you weren’t, you were only feeling, and that only fucked you up in class. 

God fucking damn it. 

I don’t…. god, I love Mr. Weiss, he’s so fucking sweet, but I always feel so GUILTY because he just

he wants to help

I know he does

but he doesn’t seem to understand that you can’t help me by trying to tell other people about what I do

I just

I don’t like it

stop talking about me, you attractive, thoughtful motherfucker. You do the right thing, but that isn’t what I need. 

“You’d tell me if you weren’t okay, right, Jesse?” just. don’t say it in that voice. it;s all concern and heartbroken and

please stop

because at that point, the only choice left is to lie, to pretend that yes I am perfectly okay I’m just not looking at you because it’s who I am and no, I am not consciously avoiding you. Was it necessary, to track me down all the way to the first fucking floor? Right after class where I oh so discreetly ran out when you were busy with other people?

It makes me happy that you care, it really does, but do you 

do you have to make it hurt for me too? 

I just. I don’t know. I have a headache, and I want to forget. Because I’m great at forgetting, at pretending that events don’t exist, at rewriting my memories so that it never happened that way, I don’t remember being hurt. Those feelings are just a little bump on my life. I won’t remember where they came from. I can’t. 

The intense urge not to be hated. To be ignored. To have my discrepancies slide by. 

Just forget my mistakes, my actions. They’re a minute in a lifetime. 



It seems like knowing what exactly reality is to me only make sit worse. Fuck. 

I don’t understand


we are forced to show ourselves

why I didn’t want to hide anymore

and in the end

I could only regret

being noticed. 


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