might as well unravel the secrets

16 Dec

so I thought, and have been thinking for a while, and I’ve realized something.
I am a bit of a jealous bitch.
Fauberge and Tweed have a lovely friendship at the moment, but I cannot get over their ease of getting along- damn, I want to be able to speak to him like that, witty and sharp instead of bumbling like me. Oh, if only I was quicker with my thoughts, if only I dwelled less on the nature of small mammals and more on how best to counter the insults being thrown my way. It is also interesting that Fauberge, small as she is, can quickly render all terrified. I am a lumbering six feet, yet people routinely stomp on my attributes because it’s “fun.”
I want to be confident. I don’t want to have to worry about what people will say. I want to be less gullible. I want to have pride. I want to have someone who cherishes me. I want someone who loves me, for once in the nonplatonic way, though sure that is nice and all but when you’ve had unrequited love for six years that gets a little old.
I want a lot of things, oh yes I do.
But these things may never be given to me. I will watch quietly as all my friends become happily in love, but I will be the perpetual wallflower.
Dammit Bortglomt. All this, and I will never tell you. I will never tell you.
because that’s another chance for my rejection.

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