…and one very well may be.
Which is directed at you? Is one directed at you? Now, don't be vain....
I hate it. I absolutely hate it.
I think—I know— I love you more than you love me. That hurts.
I know you’re mad at me. However, if I had it to do all over again I would still make the same decision. You go on and keep being pissed. And while you’re at it, eat me.
Sometimes when I am telling a story about you, I refer to you as "my best friend,_____" even though that is something that would have to be mutual to be true.
The more I see, the less you matter.
For the love of all that is holy, will you please change your shirt?
I want to be just like you when I grow up. Only much, much thinner.
I thought you hated me, so I told everyone you were a "fugly stupid bitch". And it turned out that you didn’t hate me and then I felt really bad about that. Especially since you turned out to be really nice, and are not at all fugly.
As far as my writing is concerned, your opinion is the only one that matters to me. So when you say you believe in me, sometimes it makes me believe in myself.
I know it’s mean and wrong and ugly but I’m secretly rooting for you to fail.
I’m waiting for you to call me even though I know you never will.
Before I buy something, I think about whether or not you would wear it, and base my decision around that.