I hate how you always point out that I’m slower than you. I hate how you always point out that I’m stupid. I hate how you laugh at my writings. I hate how you say I have no talent. I just smile and laugh along with everyone else, and pretend that it doesn’t hurt. So there, I obviously have SOME talent. Acting. If you haven’t figured out that this hurts, then I’m pretty good. If you haven’t figured out that I’m crying on the inside, then I must be great. If you haven’t figured out that I hate you, then I must be a pro. I’ve been holding all of this in since I’ve been a little girl, so I must be dedicated to this. More acting. I’ve held this back so I wouldn’t hurt you, like you’ve hurt me. But most of all, I hate how you say I’m so depressing, because you’re the reason of it all.