fear.

I’ve failed you.
I’m so absorbed into my own problems that I don’t notice yours, and when I do notice, I don’t know how to fix it.
I’ve been saying that a lot lately.
I don’t know.
I don’t know why I cry over nothing.
I don’t know what I want to do after high school.
I don’t know what classes I need to take to get me there.
I don’t know how to fix you.
I don’t know whether I’m going to make it past 60 days.
I just don’t know anymore.
I need help, and nobody seems to know how to help me.
As much as I want to tell you, I can’t, because I’m scared.
I’m scared because, no matter what you say, I’m always going to feel like I’m being judged by you, even though I know you aren’t.
I don’t know how you’re going to take what I want to tell you, and I don’t know whether it’s going to make you reject me.
I need out.