When you're fifteen, you're meant to be all grown up, mature and in control. But you're not. You're never in control and, in all honesty, at fifteen, you're still as much of a child as you've ever been.

You still lie awake at night, crying in to the pillow. You still just want to be hugged, and to be loved. At fifteen, you still childishly yearn to be the center of attention.

At fifteen, no matter how much your mind tells you that you shouldn't, you still act like the spoilt brat you were at six.

The truth is, you never really grow up - you just become better at hiding all your childish awnts as you grow older. You become more adept at hiding your insecurities. At fifteen, before the 'growing older' phase, you don't hide the fact that you think you're fat, ugly and a b****.

Maybe, when you're older, you'll be blessed with a maturity that allows you to be truly the person you want to be. Somehow, I doubt that though. We're all selfish little children inside.