Wishful Regret

I don’t think I’ve ever been the person I want to be. Of course, it’s not like I could have changed how my life would turn out. I’d thought I’d be able to take on every single obstacle and challenge that was thrown at me. People say I used to be a better person way back then, before I became a stubborn teenager bursting with uncontrollable hormones. I knew that was true, but it never occurred to me how much it bothered me. Everywhere I go, people overtake me. They are better than me, and this leaves my heart sore even though I knew how jealousy was an evil monster, but I can’t help it. I despise the feeling of being worthless when someone in authority appears and the person next to me automatically offers assistance without being ordered whereas I stand there, impassive and too timid to be productive. Even though no one has ever really confronted me directly about me being a bitch because of that, it makes me feel insecure and not worthy enough of other people’s attention. I know what you’re thinking. That I’m an attention-seeking, greedy whore. Maybe I am. But I’ve made the decision not to care already. I’ve decided not to make a big deal if I offend other people and that automatically stamps a ‘biatch’ on my head. I’m too tired to care, to even write what I’m really feeling here. I know people come here a lot, so here’s to you people who think I’m worth your time. Think again.