Happy birthday,

to Sarah and myself. I'm 18 now. I can legally buy my own cigarettes, watch porn, and club. Other than this, I hate being 18. I hated yesterday, I really fucking did. All of my posts are shitty and about you. Because nothing fucking matters but you.

To be honest, you really hurt me yesterday. Maybe it was my fault for having expectations, but it's not my fault I want to spend time with you. Birthday or not, I really look forward to seeing you and being with you. I wish you would try harder or at least show that you are. I always tell you that I believe everything you say but it's hard when you don't show me. You make me want to stop trying.