[lanegwyn]

All different people, obviously:
-You're the only boy who's ever complimented me. How absurdly depressing is that? I'm 17 years old.

-I'm about to (attempt, at least, to) become friends with you for the sole purpose of getting alcohol.

-I'm about to insert myself into your life for the sole purpose of having friends at school. I don't care about you.

-I do care about you. But I guess there's nothing I really want to say to you. There's nothing to say. Nothing that the world and our construct of reality, and social mores, will let me say. I just so hope you're happy. You're just so perfect in so many imperfect ways. I like missing you- that's why I'm so obsessed (not really, but for lack of a better word) with you. It's so unusual for me to feel something. It's eerily similar to being alive.