The flight over there’s long and I think about Daisy the whole time, how I wish I was good at this feelings shit—that I knew how to say sorry, say what I really think. I can’t say it out loud. I can’t risk it. I’ve loved a girl who doesn’t love me back for going on three years now—being aware of my feelings hasn’t gotten me anywhere, and I was fine before—before I knew I was into Daisy—fuck, I’ve probably been into her for months unawares, and for months and months I’ve been fine, and then fucking Henry caught a whiff of it and ruined it by bringing it forth into my consciousness, that shitty
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i feel bad tbh
