how scared scared scared.
scared that you don't like me.
scared that you don't want me.
scared that you won't ever want me.
scared that you will never desire me.
scared that you will, that you do.
i wish i wish i wish i knew!
i hate not knowing.
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and my grades, oh my grades! i promised to make them better, spend less time on lucas, on boys in general.
and i did, but oh my grades have slipped even worse...
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you again. MC thinks you like me. she is throughly convinced. when she tells me this, i get the floaty butterfly feeling. which, alghtough rather uncomfortable, is surprisingly plesant.
But i don't think you like me. and when i think this, and when i see that you haven't facebooked me, even though i gave you a clear oppurutinity, and you have been online... oh, then i over think this, over think you.
and it gives me the (more comfortable, but decidedly unplesant) sinky-feeling in my viseral organs.
i just wish... that you would give me a reason to believe.
today's six word memoir: Looking cute, running like a moron