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May 19, 2016
Remember when I was talking back at you from inside my closet? I was crying and bemoaning my imagined "fact" that you don't love me as much as you love my brothers. I was in high school, if I remember right. Growing up, this has been something that bothered me and something I was an expert in ignoring. I guess it helped me not care if people like me or not. You told me I was wrong in believing that, and now I'm mostly just "meh" on the surface. Inside though, it will always be both: deeply concerned, unaffected.