At least I think I do

I love this song, I love this song, I love this song. This song is me at eighteen, nervously brave, optimistic, proud, too busy to give a shit if I look fat or not, toying with my agile emotions and dipping my toes into the real world. People would wish me well and I would prance down the year twelve corridor thinkin' about the formal and mainly worry about getting good grades.

Tonight I cried in my car and I don't even know why - it could be that I spent all my money on ~healthy food~ and spent time agonising over dresses that don't fit - or that I'm selfish and spoilt and weak and a hypocrite, living in luxury but still crying about something or other - or that I've finally realised that I've been on this earth for more than twenty years and I don't think I've ever truly believed that I'm a good person.