The weird thing is, the majority of the time I wasn’t even criticizing them. A lot of the time I’d be bitching about my own life and I’d try to be as specific as possible but my friend was convinced I was secretly talking about him, and our other friends agreed I was partially at fault.

Of course the times I did criticize them went even worse. I developed a habit of just agreeing with them and complying to all their criticisms of me, but that upset them more because it turned out they didn’t believe all their criticisms and just said them because they were mad.

I don’t know. I just don’t want to make friends anymore because it’s damned if I do, damned if I don’t. I keep shoving myself into queer spaces because I always wanted to find love before I die, but I don’t think I like being close to people anymore. It’s confusing and uncomfortable.