I was never really popular. I mean, I love being social and hated being lonely, but I guess there is just something about me that just...turns people off. Some days I hated myself, too, because I felt like I wasn't good enough. I wasn't invited to the big sleepovers on Saturday nights, I would usually find myself searching for something to read on a Saturday and falling asleep around nine. I like to write, I like humor and I like being athletic. Maybe I'm not pretty enough for all my other friends, and that's why I'm not a part of their small group. Maybe I'm too busy. Maybe I'm too weird. What made me the most depressed feeling, however, was knowing that they like my best friend more than me. Every time someone met me, they would like me at least a little. But after they met my best friend, they loved her and everything about her. She had this overwhelming confidence that I couldn't reach because I brought myself down. She is prettier, smarter and more social than me. Some nights this killed me inside. Most days it does.
I just wish... I don't even know.
I just wish I could learn to accept myself.