It’s not easy to forget the things I’ve done.
I had friends. I lost them. And I know I’m the one at fault. *Majority Votes*
I fucked up a lot so far. I resent and regret all of it. But I can’t put my finger on what exactly I did wrong all this time.
Was it sleeping with so many guys I never gave a fuck about? Not smoking weed at an earlier age so I could be accepted? Not being okay with people treating me like shit, taking their daily frustrations out on me? Not breaking my back for those who needed anything… even the slightest amount of admiration? Not accepting Brady’s request for me to be his girlfriend? Becoming more than friends with a two year long friend within 3 days? Not being rich enough or cool enough to be accepted by Elizabeth or Remi? Not being enough of a slut to keep Lexi as my bestie? Not knowing how to control myself after a few drinks and some weed?
Fuck… There’s so much shit.
I hurt someone today… His name is Pascal. It’s a sad occurrence simply because I hate to hurt people… Idk how many times I’ve done it. Or what justifies it… I just know it sucks.
Ever since Blake left me, I’ve done nothing but destroy. I am the destroyer of all things that so much as glance my way.
I’m a murderer.
Far from manipulative, though…. This, I am proud of.
I don’t connive. I don’t plot, scheme, or conspire. This shit just happens to me in weird ass ways.
From my point of view, I’m making decisions that are supposed to make my life better… Broaden my horizons… Make my dreams come to life. But this… This is getting ridiculous.
I killed someone.
Her name was Addison.
I killed her best friend too.
I did it… Not with my hands, but with my heart.
I’ve heard the phrase a thousand times, “Follow your heart.”
But what if your heart has an undying thirst for blood…? What the fuck am I supposed to follow then?

Whatever… It’s not like I’ll get help. I had a “social worker” once… That shit didn’t help. I had friends. I lost them. I know I’m the one at fault. I’m fucked.