The End

I give up.

Let's face it. I don't have a life, and the reason why I thought I did was because I hated the fact that people around me live fantastic lives.

And it's not fair.

I can't ignore the conversations or the mildly interesting tidbits of someone's life. I listen, and sometimes it's best not to say anything out loud. But somewhere deep inside, I'm actually muttering something unintelligent under my breath. I realized that I hated her, and hated pretty much everything she's ever had.

Because of hatred, I tend to forget that my life pretty much sucks and started to think the other person lives a crappy life. The problem about hating someone is that, as much as I don't wanna admit it, the truth is otherwise. I hated her because she actually has a life. I despised her cause she writes nothing other than happy thoughts all the time. I fret the things she has, and also because she's never wanted to think I ever EXISTED in her life.

I wanna be a part of her. And so I tried to brush off the negatives and focused on the positive sides. I tried so hard, but in the end it all came down to an empty treasure chest. I had no gains, instead I have made a few pitfalls. It took me countless failed attempts to see with my own ungodly eyes that she never noticed.

If she doesn't care, then why should I?

The truth is, I can't help it. When you're a loser who just want to be cared about, like me, with an instant snap of your fingers or a swift kick on the head, you're her lapdog. I'll say what she wants me to say, do whatever she tells me to do, anything to make myself feel like I belong to something as 'valuable' as a family bond. But no, this isn't what you call a bond. It ain't that. It's more like a plan of desperation, a struggle to make life more meaningful.

At the bottom of my sinking heart, I couldn't take it anymore. This is wrong, but if feels so right. All of my actions are not based out of my natural instincts. I did what I thought might save me from abandonment.