Maybe Aimee did under estimate me. Maybe I am a bigger jerk than anyone thought I was. Maybe I am just a bad person trying to be good. Maybe giving my mother money would only propagate the problems in her life. Maybe the same stupid people I surround myself with were the same people I called friends. Maybe I'm not as smart as I think I am. Maybe I am. Maybe I thought I was in love. Maybe I don't know what love is. Maybe I am a bad lair. Maybe it's because I want people to know the truth. Maybe I'm just to cowardly to say the truth. Maybe I have a bad memory because I don't want to remember. Maybe no matter how good I am at something I'll never be good enough. Maybe there's always better. Maybe I need to be stroked and told how good I am. Maybe it's because, for a brief minute, I'll believe it. Maybe I'll wake up and look in the mirror and think "God he's ugly" Maybe I'll wake up and think "I would date me if I weren't me." Maybe I just can't help who I am. Maybe I can change. Maybe I need to be told when to help out. Maybe I'm unappreciative. Maybe I don't know how to tell people how I feel about them. Maybe it makes me feel vulnerable. Maybe I'm only 20. Maybe I'm sorry.