more oh shit
2003-09-13 || 10:20 p.m.

I just want to cry and cry for the terrible mess I make of my life and all the things I fail to understand. I shouldn't write this down because it's just fucking awful but really none of it matters, does it? It doesn't matter what I write or what I do or what I think because none of it is real. And so I know this guy fancies me and I just try to be friendly because, fuck, I'm a well brought up girl and he's one of my school friend's dad's and so you have to be polite. But he looks just like the guy who raped me when I was nine and I didn't want to be out with him tonight but I don't know how to say no. And he was fine and nothing happened except he kept paying me compliments and 'accidentally' touching me and I know he's looking at me and thinking of me in that way and I don't want it, not at all. And oh shit shit shit shit shit.

Shit.