Fake

I'm weird. 

I never say the right thing and I talk to fast and loud and people don't like me. 

I spend too much time thinking about dying and how much I can poison my body before it happens. 

I'm the unwanted one. 

The one people don't want to bother with. 

Maybe I'm just different. Maybe being the only teenage girl that seems to think caring about others feelings is an important part of being Christ like turns people off to me. 

I want to scream at them all the time. 

I would've done anything for you. 

I broke up with him for you.

You never stuck up for me. 

You never tried to be honest with me.

You lied to me over and over and said you loved me over and over and I believed it but I'm done. 

I'll never be able to see you the same again. 

I'll never be able forgive you. 

And If I die...

Don't come to the funeral. 

Wouldn't want you to waste anymore fake tears. 

The sin that doesn't count

I thought after I graduated it wouldn't hurt anymore.

I thought that high school pressured you into having friends and that after it was over I wouldn't feel bad about not having any anymore. 

But I was wrong. 

It hurts just as bad. 

Making a group message with everyone in the old one except me

Telling me you'll come over in the morning but never showing up. 

I wonder if God cares about bad friends. 

I wonder if he looks at teenage girls who broke their friends hearts and judges them.

Or if he doesn't care. 

Just like everyone else. 

Or if he doesn't count it. 

Because they never considered themselves my friends in the first place.