I know I’m a b**** to you. I know I talk about you behind your back. I also know that you do exactly the same thing to me. You shouldn’t have trusted me, you shouldn’t have told me your freaking life story. I didn’t want to know about you and your bulimia. I didn’t want to hear about how I drink too much. I didn’t want you to trust me because I knew I couldn’t keep your secret. You have problems, we all know it, you don’t need to make a scene about it every time we all sit down to eat, every time theres food in front of you. I don’t make a scene every time theres a sharp object in front of me, I don’t tell everyone that I need to cut my self or show people my scars. I keep it too my self because I don’t want to trust people like me… I don’t want to trust people who knew they wouldn’t trust themselves.