penny lane
i have issues. i realized this as i sat listening to a boy talk about his. i watched him cry and ramble. and i could only picture me as the girl he talked about. the girl with the father that never treated her mother quite right. the girl that things happened to. the girl who did things that made her feel bad and wasn't sure why. the girl who often feels bad about herself because of what other people say to her. the girl who listens and cries when other people put her down. the girl that takes it to heart even though she pretends she doesn't. the girl that is perhaps a little broken. and i'm sure that you would have been that girl too, had you been there.

but all the while... i doubted him. i doubted his story. people say i'm perceptive. i can see things about people. i know people a little too well. i like to watch people. and while his tears were real... and his story good... it was off. and maybe it sounds cruel to you, but i can tell with these things. i was sucked into his story... because it was a good one. but i never stopped believing that it was just a story. maybe i almost saw it as real. i mean, he had me there... feeling sorry for myself. he said the right things. the things he probably know everyone feels. his story made me feel. but i doubt his intentions. and i doubt him. it was all too perfect.