This dress was so beautiful in the store, even when I tried it on. I thought it was perfect. Now it's riding up my legs and making me look like some goth victorian slut. Yet another example of why I hate my optimistic moments. Also, I finally wrote that poem Nailah wanted me to, about Daniel:

I keep texting you.
I never texted you before,
but now you said you love me and
I’m so confused
I just can’t
You’ve always made me
So uncomfortable
And now you say you love me?
That’s all good, but
Now you won’t text me back?
What am I supposed to do.
Mysophilia, Onychophagia, Dermatillomania
For all I know you’re a freak
You may love me, but
I will NEVER love you

And now you don’t text me back.
All I want to clear up is
whether love is past tense or present
because I don’t want you to love me.
And if you do -
Though i’m not telling you this now -
I will break off our “friendship”
The only reason I haven’t is because
I didn’t find you all that creepy before
Mysophilia, Onychophagia, Dermatillomania
the fact that you told me of these makes it so
I feel guilty every time
I think about leaving you.

So answer my message already
I may not want you to love me
but you probably love me
but you might not love me
but crap you probably do and
I don’t love you like you love me and-
Wait, hold up.
What am I doing?
You said you miss me.
And you did put a D at the end of L-O-V-E
(though I suppose that’s
pretty common of the male species)

Mysophilia, Onychophagia, Dermatillomania...
Just for the love of all things hateful
Tell me you love me
So I can go.