Trapped in my bedroom again, this time by my own rubbishness. (and the fact I don’t want them to see I’ve been crying)
Why am I crying?
Mister Cutie came to see “us” for lunch. To be fair he did bring me something too. (Which I’m pathetic to admit did make me smile.)
I have no reason to feel this bad, I don’t know this man and if I’d found out he had a girlfriend it wouldn’t have upset me, I didn’t imagine that this was anything but a silly crush.
But every sly look, every time she makes him smile, every time I have to watch them chatting with those looks in their eyes, or hear, or even just know that it’s happening it feels like I get a little bit smaller. I fade just a little bit more each and every time till I feel like a shadow.
I know I’ll never have the spotlight, but all the same it’s a little cruel. To have me sitting on my bedroom floor, trying not to think about my flatmate, in the next room, taking centre stage in the eyes of the boy I have a crush on.
A crush I didn’t get to keep.
Don’t be ridiculous Lee.
Who’s going to choose to spend the day with a tub of vanilla when they could have berry cherry.
…Yes, I am eating 2 tubs of ice-cream, what of it!!!
