All of my friends moved away.

You'll find yourself apologizing for your steps,

your breath,

your laughter.

You'll find yourself apologizing for apologizing,

and they'll laugh,

scoff,

and talk. 

You'll find yourself so small, praying for the days when you can return home to an empty apartment

so that for once you can let your hair down and not worry about what you're doing wrong.

Your mother will ask you what has happened and you'll stutter through tears, before asking,

was I really this fucked up all along?