It's really sad to think

That I had such high hopes for all the things in my life to be perfect. Sure, nothing's perfect, but to me they were. The only boy I fell in love with, perfect, my friends, perfect, family, perfect. Now that Reality beat me up I see every little flaw and it makes me upset and I notice it too much. Now, all of that seems to move farther and farther away from me, young at sixteen years old and I feel like not making it by 18. Everything I put in someone who I thought I could call my better half, I don't know much of the details, or let alone any answers, but everything makes me feel like I'm giving up. But there I am again just complaining. I haven't given up, I don't want to. And I'm okay, I guess, content close enough to happy. And I won't let anyone sweep me off my feet, if that sort of thing exists. But aside of that I've found that I'm so shy, I don't know how to exactly say what I want to say. And another thing, I can't wait for this summer.