I swear I feel like the fifteen year old version of myself so much lately. The girl who thought she knew what she wanted and then got it and then didn’t want it and then wants it again. But this time it feels different, I guess. I really don’t know what I want but I do know what I don’t want. That’s what growing up is. Not so much figuring out exactly what will make you happy but at least knowing what will make you sad. At fifteen I never thought I’d be acting like such a child at twenty four and throwing inner temper tantrums and crying because I wake up feeling disgustingly lonely.
At fifteen I thought I’d at least like myself by now.