He loves you.
More then you could ever understand.
I see it in his eyes.
I hear it when he talks about you.
I feel it when he hugs me.
He would rather be with you.

If you knew that,
If you understood that you're the only reason he smiles,
then I'd be content with letting him be with you.

If you knew that he wants you ten times more then he wants me,
you wouldn't be as insecure.
I feel bad.
I want him.
I want him A LOT!!
But I know he really is yours.
No matter what I say.

Change is good.
Seasons change, trends change.
People don't change.
You've always been who you were meant to be.
Situations change, the people around you differ.
You've always been who you are.
At least, that's what I think.


Things are changing like crazy.
But I'm still me.
And I'm still here.
And I always will be.
Dueces ♥

Replacements.
I'm always replaced with them.
I hate it.
Was I ever worth anything to you?
Every time you said I was amazing, nice, the only person who you could ever talk to...
Was that all just a lie?
Because obviously I'm not irreplaceable.
You've proved that to me a thousand times.
And I know others will prove it to me a thousand more.

Awesome, amazing, fantastic, super, sick, fricken sweet.
That is how I feel right now.
I don't have deep thoughts flowing into my head,
but the thoughts I do have make me smile like no one can.
For this, I am thankful.

Dueces ♥

There's something in the back of my mind
Something I can't shake.
Something I've thought for awhile, but haven't said anything about.

You're the one person who I can talk to about anything.
You're the one person who I have never gotten mad at.
You're the one person who I want to get to know more about.

There's really something in the back of my mind that whispers in my ear every time we talk, "he's perfect for you"

It's true. We're perfect for each other.
But you won't ever realize it.
And neither of us will do anything about it.
We're both too caught up in our "past romances"

Maybe someday something will whisper in your ear too.

When the scars you tolerate give you a sense of pride,
When you can't remember the last time you cried,
When you can ultimately show the world your fine,
You'll know.

When you don't fight with your clothes anymore,
When you don't spend hours weeping on the floor,
When you embrace the clouds and your spirit soars,
You'll know.

When that fuzzy image finally becomes clear,
When you genuinely listen, instead of just hear,
When you stand there and fight, despite all your fears,
You'll know.

Do you plan out what to write in your blog?
I don't
I just type, type, type away...
Hoping something mildly wonderful will pop out of the tips of my fingers.
Does that ever happen?
Have I said things that are mildly wonderful?
I hope so. :)

I confuse the hell out of myself.
Am I happy?
Am I sad?
Am I pissed off beyond repair?
Am I clinically insane?

I answered yes to 3/4 of those questions.
You can figure out which ones. ;)

But seriously, I don't know what to do.
Or maybe I do know.
I just can't make myself do what I need to do...

I don't know if the smile on my face is real or fake.
I know you make me happy...
You make me smile real smiles that shine bright enough to make the stars jealous.
But you also make me cry...
Why?
Because you don't care.


You use me,
hurt me,
break me,
shake me,
leave me
and lie to me.


You all do.
But I'm still here.
I still stand here,
listening,
waiting,
wondering.

When is it my turn?

Never do I have a definite answer when someone asks me if I'm okay.
Or if someone asks me what's wrong.
Or anything like that.
You get the picture.

I try to answer, but the phrase "I don't know" fumbles out of my mouth thirty times in a row before I actually can think clearly enough to form a response.
Cool, right?

If I knew what was wrong, I would tell you.
Point blank.
I'm not shady, or sneaky.
I'll tell you what's going on.

If only I knew.

I'm not afraid.
Bad things happen.
People change.
But in the end, it's all for my own good.

I know I might lose you.
I know I might fail AP History.
But I'm not afraid.

Things happen for a reason.
Nothing is just thrown out in the middle of the road for me to sulk over.
I could sit and stare at the boulder plundering down from the heavens above thinking about how it's gonna land in the most horrible spot.
Or I could move out of the way before I'm trapped in my own misery.

I like the second option.
I've done a pretty good job taking care of myself.
I'm independent.
Strong.
Funny.
And I'm pretty quick witted.
So I can see that boulder falling, and I can run underneath it knowing that that's the best thing for me.

Maybe it's not that easy.
I'll probably get crushed one day.
But it'll all work out in the end.
I promise.
♥

I really should be working on my AP U.S. History essay.
But alas,
I'm here.
And I keep thinking.
More like wondering...
How often do you cry?
How often are we, as humans, supposed to cry.

Many people just shy away, into the shadows, never showing any emotion at all.
How often do they cry?
Sometimes, I cry for no reason.
I like the way I feel afterwards.
The feeling like you're so tired you're just going to collapse in a big, melted, pile of a you that no one knows.
A you that you hardly even recognize.
And it's there, in that moment, when you can uncover all the different dimensions of how screwed up your life really is.
You can lay there in your bed,
Sink into your matress like it's the only thing you have left,
Grab the sheets up into your sweaty palms and hold onto them as if they are your only lifeline, And let your tears fall onto the pillow that once helped you harvest your most meaningful dreams.

In that second, you are who you are.
No lies.
No masks.
No excuses.
And it's liberating.

Once the tears are gone, and your face no longer hurts from being scrunched together,
you only have yourself, and the silence left.