love, me.

dear you,

i'm sorry for not living up to your expectations. all your expectations. don't get me wrong, i don't blame you for having expectations of me. you probably mean well... in fact i know you do. it's probably because of those expectations that i've come as far as i have.

but. sometimes i wish you knew how much pain those expectations cause me. how much pain it causes me to fail you, or to feel as if i did. you say things, and they hurt. again, i don't blame you for saying those things, because it's what you think and feel and i want you to share them with me. but they hurt. because they make me feel as if i've disappointed you. i think you don't actually realize how much of what you say i think about in bed, before i go to sleep. or when i wake up. or when i'm with my friends. or when i'm home alone. or when my mind goes on one of it's many random meandering rambles. i play it over and over again. and i feel like a failure. yeah, me. a failure. and that hurts.

i promise i will try - i always have. i've done things i don't really wanna do, and convinced myself that it's something i wanna do, just to make you happy. to make you proud. but it never seems like enough. there's always something bigger i could've achieved, something better i could've done. something someone else has done that's better. but i will try to live up to your expectations. i will give it my best.

if my best fails you, please remember that it was my best. remember that it hurts to fail when you've given it all you've got. please make me feel that it's okay. even if it isn't. because it will make it hurt less.

love, me.