Daya, I miss you so much. When I’m in Wembley i always deep down hope that I’ll bump into you. But I never do. In many ways I’m glad you aren’t in my life, because i wouldn’t be able to do justice to you, I’d never make you feel secure enough to stay. I am a fucking coward. Dealing with my parents is too fucking much. Every single time I get reminded that I am a fearful person. Like today my mum called and she asked why I’m here and for me to leave with respect. God fucking knows where her disgusting mind goes, I know for a fact she thinks I’m having sex. She said after interrogating me about Wembley how I posted that pic of me laying in a bed in hotel room. It wasn’t even a fucking hotel room. I feel so angry when she said and overwhelmed, that i immediately feel relief for you that you aren’t with me. Because id hurt you by wanting to leave because im a coward. It’s kinda sad that I’ll never see you again. I know it’s fucking pathetic and I’m a loser for still thinking about you.