.:.Everythings Here.:.

Sometimes, I hate myself. For all the things I did. For all the things I didn't do. For all the things I said. For all the things I kept inside. For all the wishful thinkings. For all the thoughts I put aside. For all the things I put people through. For all the nice things I didn't do. 

I'm sorry. I'm sorry I don't have anything good to say to you. I could just lend you my ears, my shoulders.  Even that I can't do much, I still hope I'm the first person you think of when you have something to tell. Call me selfish, but I have one tiny hope that I'm the only one you would want to tell anything to.  Because you're certainly the person I want to tell everything.