insecurity.

I hate how you can't tell how much it really hurts me on the inside. To know that you have a celebrity that you have a crush on because of her looks and body. At least try to convince me that no matter what, I'm your number 1. I never feel like your number 1. Ever. It'll never be me. Maybe that's why I think about leaving. Because when you're my number 1, I'm like your number 5. Or some shit like that. No, I'm not talking about spoiling me with gifts or taking me out to nice restaurants. Simple things is all I want. Surprise me with little notes (instead of leaving me post-its on my laptop calling me gay). Surprise me after class just to say hello (instead of me waiting for you). Call me because you miss my voice (instead of Facetiming me to show me your new Arianny Celeste calender you ordered online). I don't know. Some stupid cliche typical love story. I'm not asking for much..