A Collection of Spectacles

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it’s four thirtyish but i really can’t sleep. what i mean is, i went to bed at twelve and woke up a while ago. i felt bad about the previous stuff. i mean, i don’t even know if it makes a difference. all these apologies and all the statements i retract. i simply know that i have this more so for myself than anyone else and that it all helps me feel better. 

i’m going to be truthful. completely honest. 

i say mean things because i’m immature and horribly smitten (and because that is how childish people deal with affection). i also still feel hurt sometimes and it shows. 

that’s a more accurate portrayal. two sentences sum it up.

 i’m tired of feeling lonely. i think.

edit: i lied before. i extended myself. it was awkward. in fact, i’m somewhat awkward.

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