There are.
Eleven things.
I want to write.
To 11 people.

You think you know me?


You make me feel like crap. You make me feel so horrible about where I am in life, I don’t even know how to love you anymore. You tell me that without me the “house stays clean” and you call me “lazy” and you tell me that I’ll “never be anything”.

She–your daughter–tells me that you just say that because you believe in me and you want you challenge me to be the best that I can be. Is she serious? I don’t think she is because all you ever say to me is negative.

I don’t think you know how you make me feel when you say things like that. Not to mention you’re always hostile and living with you makes me feel sick. You make me feel disgusted with humanity. I can’t even trust anyone else! I can’t! You’ve made everything in my life horrible and I can’t even…

hate you.


You’re my world and I love what you’ve done to me. Though, you tell me I’m a doormat, and maybe I am, but please…can’t you just trust and support me? I love you so much I can’t even stand it. I don’t regret anything I’ve done with you and if we don’t last, I doubt I ever will. I don’t even think I can move on if you decided you didn’t want me anymore.

I’m in awe of you. Don’t you know that, I’m in awe of you! You make me feel more than anyone ever could.

Sometimes, when you ask me if all I want you for is what you can do for me, it hurts. I love you. I’d be just as happy just being with you and never being allowed to ask you for something again as I am right now. You’re so perfect for me, if I ever lost you I don’t think I’d be able to go on.


There’s a lot of things we used to be and the fact that we aren’t anymore bugs me. It’s hard to talk to you because I’m not social and neither are you. You get depressed easily and it’s really hard for me to carry on a conversation. Especially since I can only talk about things you’re interested in. So, I’m really sorry, but that’s why we never talk.


You don’t do anything and think you can treat us all like crap. You use my friends and my boyfriend. You’re so stupid you’ve tried to kill yourself repeatedly over the same dumb girl. When are you going to get it?

I wish you’d stop hugging me. I don’t even want to touch you anymore because I don’t like you. I really don’t like you. At all. Neither do my friends. They wish you’d stop asking them for money and rides.

But we’re all afraid of you.


For the longest time I thought you didn’t like me. But you’re one of the coolest–if I can say this–moms I know. I’d love for you to be my mom, but I get the impression that you might have a bit of a temper. Probably not as bad as my mother’s (who none of us can even stand to be around, no matter how much we love her), but I’m too meek to be yelled at anymore. However, I love you nonetheless. You tell the best stories and I wish I got to see you more.


You. Make. Me. Sick. And you need to back off. You need to just back the heck off. Find your own.


Don’t you know it’s rude to stare? Close your mouth and look away before I get up and leave. You’re being rude by looking at me all the time. I don’t know why you’re even staring over here. Seriously? Just stop and go about your business. I hope you leave soon, or I swear I’m going to call campus security on you.


I don’t like you. I’ve never liked you. I use you for gossip because you’re the only person that talks to me about the things I want to hear. Then you talk about me behind my back.

You told everyone I was bi. You told everyone who I liked.

And it all backfired because I still get more than you.

So thanks.


You’re a mess. I wish you’d stop turning to drugs to get rid of it. I knew this is what would happen. So why don’t you just suck it up and live like the rest of us?

Because. You’re. Weak.


You’re so fake. I wish everyone could see you the way I see you.


We don’t have any of the same interests anymore. I wish you’d acknowledge that and let me go.

these are my 11
secrets about eleven secret

I want to say good-bye.</sub>