I hate that I’ve been so hurt in the past. I hate knowing what people are capable of. I hate crying over what could happen and not what is actually happening. I hate all the “what if“‘s in my head. They all make me hurt and careful about everything. I hate who I am. I really do. I hate that I can’t be happy because of what goes on in my head.
Selfish machines.
I am only responsible for what I say, not for what you understand.