Birthday...

Well, happy fucking birthday to me.

This day is one of the worst. I think it my birthday’s fault, one one side. On the other side, it’s still me and my fucking problems. Well you know how you celebrate birthday with your family? Well, they even didn’t say „happy birthday“, only one of them. In a text message. But then nothing, when I saw her, and I won’t even mention the another one. This made me sad. Even more sad than I was before. I’m used t that that I cry every fucking moment of my life, but this was just rude. I won’t be sad because of fucking „happy birthday“, I’m sad, because I’m simply overlooked. Yet again. It’s like I’m an automatic thing that appears everytime they need me. Like a fucking robot.

I needed to get out. So I went to café with my friend and her girlfriend. Even it was fine, it made me realize how fucking lonely I am. Like everytime I see some couple. This is just a crap. It gives me no confidence at all. I feel ugly like a shit. I feel annoying, I feel so fucking awkward, so hella weird. I just hate myself and I dunno what am I complaining about when I know how many mistakes I’ve got. Nobody wants to be with that fat-ass, weird, suicide girl with no life. Who would be like that? Nobody wants this unhealthy realitionship. I would only make him sad. I would destroy him as a person. I do not deserve anyone. But I hate being alone. Well well, my fault. All of this. My fault. If I wouln’t be one ugly and annoying motherfucker…

And when I arrived home, I was so pissed off, so depressed. I needed to get out. I went with another two of my friends outside and fuck, talking about my mood made my mood even worse. And I had to pretend. ALL THE FUCKING DAY. I had that fucking mask. That mask that told people I am happy. That mask that broke hours ago and I stayed in my bed, crying like an idiot, thinking about my death what would be in the same day as my birthday so I would just simply make it easier to people around, that they'd cry only one day after in one year (well, after some years with dealing with it, or months... or days, whatevs), just like always. My hysterical crying. I didn’t care if anyone will hear me. No one will ever come, so, whatever. They gave up long ago. It’s like they almou waiting for my final breakdown.