Emily Darling
10:14 p.m.

dearest darling:

yes, i really dislike you. i dislike most things about you.

i dont appreciate the way you so carelessly manipulate people. i dont enjoy watching you bring pain into other people, and doing it intentionally.

i dont like how hard you try to be everyone's best friend.

i dont like that you try. only try so hard. and that doesnt mean you accomplish anything.

the only reason you're "sad" is for attention. you made up your problems. you "think" your dad beat you? you mean you dont know? first of all, what you dont know cant hurt you. second, sweetest, i know what being hit by a father is, and that doesnt make me any more important, better, or different than/from you. you thought it got me attention, yet i hide much of what has happened to me, and when you find i am modest and value my personal life... that drags you down a little more.

so stop trying to out-do me when it comes to "who has it worse off" because i dont think anyone does, and it's jsut how you deal with it. i deal. i dont go seek pity and attention anymore. and i am honest enough to admit at one point i did.

look at me.

no, really look at me. what do you see?

a girl you havent spoken to in 6 months. a girl that you only have one other person to talk about with.

you both dont know me. so please dont think you do. obviously, i have changed a tremendous amount. im not like you anymore, and dont sit about wallowing in a self-induced pity for the sake of being watched. i have other friends that try to appreciate life, no matter what it throws them. you can see me going to shows and having fun. you scowl at me when i smile, and then i laugh and you walk away.

listen to me when i say this: i still know you. your so called "friends" continue to question and rant off about you actions to me. i try not to be biased. they question your every move, but can you blame them? look at this road of destruction you've left behind you! it's much too late to pick it up. so pick yourself up.

grow up a little, learn that you arent always right. that you arent very deep. that things dont always have to be sullen and meloncholly. life isnt a poem or a tear-streaked song on a blue page.

life is what you make it.

stop making yours hell, not only for you, but those around you.

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