Rambling.

They honestly don't care if you're a pretty face because no one ever remembers you the morning after. I shouldn't care. I really shouldn't but I do. I can't stop thinking of it. For just a second, I knew that someone thought I was beautiful. Then I kick myself and consider the razor blades. I was weak. I love to dance. He was charming. I'm a sucker for guys who speak Italian. He was a gentleman. I don't think I've ever so much as seen a guy kiss a girl's hand. Of course I told him off and warned him and did all the right things someone who has a boyfriend is supposed to do. But I was weak and I won't forget that. I cried and I hate that because tears are emotional blackmail. The way that he says 'I knew something would happen' makes me want to hurt him. Not because he's right but because I feel like he won't trust anyone with me. That's the same as not trusting me with anyone. I hate that I care so much about what happened. I hate that I was manipulative about how I told him. I hate that I'm guilty because I DID do something wrong. I just want to give up on myself. I don't feel as though I deserve any better.