We're falling apart to halftime...

I'm Jeff. I'm eighteen years old, and I'm a dance student at Tisch in New York. I live here with Nick, and our cat Nala.
I've messed up the last year and a half of my life, but I'm trying to fix it.
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asknickwarbler:

Yeah, it is. You said that it was because of what I said. This is why I don’t talk. I should just keep my mouth shut.

No, Nick please.. I’m sorry..

asknickwarbler:

I do, though. ‘Cause it’s my fault that you’re all sad.

No. It’s not.

asknickwarbler:

Okay. I’ll just.. Okay. I’m sorry.

You don’t need to be sorry.

asknickwarbler:

Maybe you should talk to your doctor.

No. I can’t go crying to my doctor all the time. What you said hit me hard. I’m just trying to come to terms with it.

asknickwarbler:

You’re confident and fun when you’re happy. You just have to let yourself be happy.

No, I’m not. It’s just how I seem.

asknickwarbler:


There are millions of good things about you.

No. There aren’t. I just want to be the confident, fun guy you fell for…

asknickwarbler:

You’re not awful. I don’t want you to change, I just want you to be happy.

That’s just it. You’re trying to make me happy, but it’s not you that’s making me sad. It’s me. Because there’s not one good thing about me. I want to be better, I want to fix things, but I have nothing to build on. Every part of me is bad. So where am I meant to start?

asknickwarbler:

It’s not true. You know what I think about you. I constantly tell you how much you mean to me.

I know I’m a nightmare. I disappear for days, I stop eating, I’m moody, I overreact, I’m stubborn. I know you think the best of me, but that doesn’t change how awful I am.

asknickwarbler:

Jeff, you’re not… I never said any of that.

That doesn’t make it any less true.

asknickwarbler:

Fine?

Yes, fine. I’m not fighting. I refuse to fight with you. So you’re right. I’m an idiot. I’m pathetic. I need to get over myself. I’m trying.