Life.

On the pursuit for happiness.

Stick with friends who saw you, when nobody else did. Stick with friends who you can call assholes, and know it’s a code word for I love you. Stick with friends who look at your mistakes, and think it’s fucking awesome. Stick with friends who don’t care when you’re crying, because they know you’re stronger than that. Stick with friends who were true to you from the very start.

You assume that I’m fine, but you don’t know how to read between the lines. I swim from moody to callous to giddy and humorous in naught point-one second. That’s not because I’m easy going or feeling guilty for being off hand with you. It’s lack of confidence and self-esteem. It’s trying to fit in and trying to hide the scars at the same time. Maybe I’m doing a good job and that’s why you don’t see.