I used to think I had so many problems. I’d listen to my friends, and think that their problems didn’t matter as much as mine. Then one day it hit me. Everybody has problems. Some people even come up to me and tell me their problems. If they didn’t tell me their problems, I would of thought they were some the happiest people alive. But, everybody has problems. Since everybody has problems, he must have problems as well. To think that there’s something out there pestering him, that makes me feel helpless. But what is ironic, is that it’s him that pesters me. To think that he’ll never love me like I do him, makes me feel helpless. So, I have problems, he have problems, you have problems, everybody has problems. THE END
