i let myself down. i never kissed christopher trott. i never, ever did. that was biggest regret. some people regret kissing people but i regret not kissing one.
as cringeworthy as it sounds. i miss his voice, his touch, his laugh especially. i'm stuck in this endless cycle of pain and torture where every time i want to fix something or do something no-one seems to see me.
was this my past life?
is this even real?
am i dead?
is this actually my life?
who am i to joke! i'm alive and well, everyone just chooses to ignore me and my desperate pleas for help.
![](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/57799976-288-k372234.jpg)
YOU ARE READING
[reviewing] texts to my stunt lad
Fanfiction[IM REVIEWING THE WHOLE STORY TO FILL UP ANY PLOT HOLES THAT THERE MAY BE] the hatters obviously use kik messenger to communicate with each other because it's not like all of them have iphones and could just make an imessage group chat. shit starts...