I feel like shit.
One of my friends -the boy that "liked" me a long time ago that's got a new girlfriend that I don't like and that apparently hates me- got his ass beat today, by his girlfriend's brother.
I didn't see it, but I heard it was bad.
I'm so pissed; him and his girlfriend are still together I think, and I think things between her brother and him are cool, too...
I'm glad he's all right...
But I'm pissed that he didn't come tell me anything, even after he got out of the office and stuff.
He didn't even talk to me, he went directly to Deli and told her what happened.
I hate that I'm the last one to hear everything, and I only hear it because I fucking ask.
Nobody even cares, I could skip school for a week and none of my friends would bother wondering where the fuck I am.
I wish I was actually good at starving myself, because it's days like this that I want to starve myself to fucking death.
Like anybody would care.
I'm just the last resort, I'm the last one to be thought of, I'm the last one that anyone would give a shit about.
Except when it comes to Jean anyways, but tomorrow she's sitting with her different friends at lunch because she's sick of our table because everyone there is obsessed with drugs and sex.
I hate our table too, and I hate my fucking life.
I'm going to go force myself to shed a few tears, and stay away from the razor in the back of my drawer... hopefully.
Cutting is so weak, if my friends heard they'd probably laugh.
"What fucking problems could you possibly have, Jessie? Don't fucking hurt yourself for attention, that's puh-thetic Haaaaaa."