
But the worst thing is I knew. I knew this would happen. This is what always happens.
it’s where my demons hide
i get really happy when it’s not me who starts the conversation because that removes so much anxiety about whether i’m bothering the person or if they secretly hate me even if i know that’s not true
“you shouldn’t be depressed, people have it worse than you”
finally, after years of searching, the person with the worst life ever is found. formally, they are granted permission to be sad. but only them. only they have earned it. no sads for anyone else at all ever
THIS ALWAYS CRACKS ME UP SO HARD