Just random thoughts after rewatching The Perks of Being a Wallflower

I don't really know where to start, but I'm sorry for the typos. I rewatched The Perks of Being a Wallflower, and it reminded me of how strongly I relate to Charlie. And I don't like that feeling too much. It's too intense, and it hurts. But I do like the reminder of the two moments in my life where I felt infinite. The moments where life just stopped. Time didn't exist in that moment, but the moment itself did. Where everything was exactly as it was meant to be. What it needed to be. And looking back to how I was before to now, life did get better. It does get better. It was just in a way I didn't realize. I didn't process it, because I was simply just living it. But I'm happy where I am now. Even though it still hurts, I can handle it. Maybe because I know there are moments where I'll feel infinite again. Because I have my friends. Because I feel infinite with them. They made me see that life does get better. That I can get better. That I even WANT to get better. I think I like living. They make it worth it. And my little brothers, even though I'm working on being a good sister. I'd do anything in the world for them, if I was stable enough. I have to work on not getting angry so fast. Because I'm an angry person, but I've gotten b better. I just hope I continue to get better. It's not that I'm angry. Well, it is. But I just get aggressive and irritated quickly. Mainly at myself. I'm not a bad dog, I just don't know why I bite. I don't like myself, which contradicts what I said earlier in this, but it's true. There are things I don't like about myself. And I'm learning how to do better at not hating myself, so I'll stick with saying I don't like myself. Certain things about myself. I just can't feel what I need to without getting angry and aggressive. Everything sets me off. I don't like getting angry. I don't like who I become when I'm genuinely angry. I guess that's why I can't be vulnerable with him. He means so much to me, I get scared. Scared that he won't like me if he sees me. But I want him to like me. To love me. To feel like I've earned it. Because no matter what, I want it to be him. I'm working on being vulnerable for him. And for me. But it's so hard. What if I open up and he doesn't like it? If I'm too much for him to handle. The intimacy of love terrifies me. I don't deserve it, and I know I probably shoulnd't say that. But it's how I feel. Maybe because my last, and first serious relationship didn't go well. I'm not a good person to be with. I've learned to be quiet when I should be loud, only ever being loud when I feel it's over. But that's because my ex would threaten to break up with me. I couldn't hang with my friends too long, stay overnight multiple nights. I still miss her. And I hate that I do. She never made me feel permanently happy, it was always temporary. It was always on a timer. I was counting down the seconds until the next blown fuse. Waiting in fear of losing her. But later down the line, after the break up, I realised that I liked the idea of her more than anything. And that I miss what she gave me, in terms of the basic minimum and sex, rather than her herself. But I do miss her. When I don't want to. And maybe it's because of her that I'm scared of being with him. It's not his fault, I have to work on that. It's scary. For so long now, it has only been "I like him(so much)", until it became "I love him" without me realising it. I love his stupid little quirks. I love his face. I love how he claims he can say whatever silly nonsense because he's a year older. I love how he knows how to push my buttons. I love how he gets on my nerves. I love how he laughs when I'm being stupid. I love the moment I saw his smile in person. I love the way his hand fitted in mine. How soft they were. I love how he dragged me around, when I was clearly free to go, but wanted to be with him. I love how he calls me to play games. I love how he argues about my health, caring for me. I love how he exists so perfectly. Perfect don't exist socially, but indivually. And he fits my indivual deffinition of perfect. Even though we're just friends right now, and maybe forever if that's what he truly wants, he makes me feel unexplainably happy. And that's scary. He has that hold over me without realizing th depths of it. I'm too scared to fully tell him. But I talk about him for hours. Hard not to. I've spent so long being depressed, but it's hard to feel like that when I talk to him. I call him my Pookie Biscuits, he responds to it. He's special to me, and that's scary. As you can tell, a lot of things are scary to me, and I get off topic a lot. I guess that I should get into why I don't like that I relate to Charlie, now that I've talked a bit about feeling infinite and rambling. I lost a close family member when I was in high school, my sophmore year, and lost a close friend to suicide. Like Charlie, except he was a freshman. And it left me in a bad depression. My friends made me. And I had a teacher who saw me, and helped me. I'll forever be grateful for him and love him. It was them who saved me, I feel. But it wasn't until recently when I realized that. I was bad, and I was worse, and I was great, then worse again. But I tried to participate in life. And I did. I missed out on a great deal, yeah, but I also had experiences I didn't know I could. Before that, like Charlie, I was sexually assaulted by a family member, my stepdad. Or, ex-stepdad, my mum is finally divorced. I can't remember it clearly, so I often think it didn't happen, but there where moments where I'd try to scrub myself clean. The hands I felt on my body. Feel. I still feel them sometimes. And I can't where the Hello Kitty nightgown my older sister gave me. It was my favourite. That's why I hate that I can relate to Charlie so much. It goes deeper than that, but I don't have a good memory since I live in a constant state of dissociation. But I see myself in Charlie, and I don't want to. I read the book long before watching the movie, but I love both. Much like Charlie, I didn't think anyone noticed me, but my friends did. I am so glad they exist. All my friends. I love them. I love my family. One day I'll be the best version of me, and it'll stay.