I Could Follow You To The Beginning, Just To Re-Live The Start

Every time I tell your story, this wave of nostalgia rushes over me. I miss whoever the fuck you used to be.

And my favorite part is when they say things like:
"I don't get why you aren't together."
"He definitely likes you."
"He just seems confused or doesn't want to admit it."
"You don't say that kind of thing to just friends."

So I'm not sure what the fuck any of that even means.

But I guess we'll find out soon enough.

I'll Be Fine, I Swear. I'm Just Gone Beyond Repair.

I don't care. I don't care. I don't care.

Fuck it. I care.

But why the hell should I care, when all you've done is use me and take advantage of me, then toss me to the curb when you don't need someone around anymore who worships the fucking ground you walk on, then allow me to have the "priveledge" of coming back into your life when nobody else will take you?

"And I'll have you know, I'm scared to death

that everything that you had said to me

was just a lie until you left."

Prove me wrong. Please. I can't take this anymore.

The more I want you, the more obsessed I am with trying to get over you. But the more I try to get over you, the more I end up missing you and wanting you back.

And I know this is really my fault for letting this happen, but still. You're sitting back with your bowl of popcorn and watching my life fall apart. And why not? You don't really need me right now, and I'm too much of a burden for you to deal with at the moment. And besides, whatever you do to me doesn't matter, because I'll take you back when you really need me, because that's just the kind of loving person I am. I just let people walk all over me, right? Remember when that used to bother you? Yeah, I guess that was before you realized you could use it to your advantage. I don't know if she did this to you, or if this is who you've really always been. But I sincerely hope you open your eyes, because you're going to crash one day, and you'll have nobody there to help you. I'm done going to you. I know if you try to come back, I'll let you. But the fact that I know you're probably going to try....

You are one mother fucking sick individual.

This Is No Place To Try And Live My Life.

People say it all the time- I live in the past.
But maybe that's not such a bad thing.

"I don't want you to know where I am,

'cause then you'll see my heart

in the saddest state it's ever been."

How else can we learn from our mistakes, and relive the moments that actually made us happy? Because right now, all I can do is think back to when I didn't have to force that smile on my face. So, my apologies if I'm "stuck in the past."

"Stop right there, that's exactly where I lost it.

See that line? I never should have crossed it.

Stop right there, I never should have said that,

It's the very moment that I wish that I could take back.

I'm sorry for the person I became.

I'm sorry that it took so long for me to change.

I'm ready to wish I'd never become that way again,

'cause who I am hates who I've been,

who I am hates who I've been."

But those who ignore the past are doomed to repeat it.
I'm not quite sure how I got to be this way, how or why I hit rock bottom so goddamn hard.
But the fact of the matter is, I did.
And I'm sure as hell not going to let it happen again.

 But I don't know how to change.

But, in a way, our mistakes have brought us here today.

But in the end, it doesn't even matter.

Moats and Boats and Waterfalls, Alleyways and Pay Phone Calls

She stood before him, tears running out of her vibrant eyes, down her cheeks.
"I've reached my breaking point," she cried.

He smiled at her, softly and surely.
"There are no such things as breaking points," he told her. "Just obstacles that get in our way. Walls. And all you need to do is get over that wall of yours, and you can continue on your way."

So the weeks went by.
She made her way up the wall in front of her daily, growing used to the support of his hands to guide her.
But, one day, when she looked down,
they were gone.

And she fell. Hard. But she was determined to make her way over the wall, with or without him.
She gave up on practicality; she wanted up and over, and she wanted it now.
So she jumped. And jumped. Over and over, she tried to jump. But it was never high enough.

And he found her one day, sitting next to the wall, curled up and crying.
He took her in his arms, and just held her, for he had never been one for apologies.
She turned to him, looked him dead in the face.
"I can't do it," she whispered.

He looked at her with the same gentle smile.
"Maybe jumping isn't the best way to get over this wall," he said. "But if you're willing to be patient, I can help you build your ladder."

She looked reluctant.
"I just want to go home," she sighed.

He wrapped her in his arms even tighter.
"Anywhere you're with me, you're home. Never forget that."

The Sky Is Vast, But It Does Not Judge

One could consider that a good thing, 

for if the sky judged everything it saw...

we'd live in one HELL of a world.

"God save us, everyone.

Will we burn inside the fire of 

a thousand suns?

For the sins of our hand, 

the sins of our tongue,

the sins of our father, 

the sins of our young."

--The Requiem- Linkin Park

Because None Of It Was Ever Worth The Risk...

You are an exception.
But not the only exception.

Every day, we take risks. For some of us, isn't it a risk to simply wake up in the morning? Among other things, I am a hypochondriac, an obsessive worrier. I rack my brain constantly for even the most out-there and insane possibilities for disaster. Why? The safest answer would be so I can brace myself. But that's not even remotely realistic; you can never truly brace yourself for death, disaster, destruction...(I'm noticing a trend with the letter "D"?)
So maybe the reason is just because I have a broad imagination. I know what's out there, and I know what's possible. I try to figure out how I would react in any given situation. I'm curious to know how much I can actually handle, without actually handling anything. (Which is clearly not a reliable indication of anything...)

So with all this potential for harm and hurt, what makes everything worth it? What compells me to leave the "safety" of my house and step into the cruel world that awaits?
The answer is simply this:
There are things that I want to do and accomplish.
There are things I want to experience.

I'm not going to let my fear of falling stop me from taking that jump.
I will never learn to fly if I keep my feet on the ground.

But You Never Seem To Run Out Of Things To Say...

I guess you can consider me "the kind of girl that ____" (fill in ridiculous but usually-true stereotype of teenage girls here.) I guess. I don't know for sure. But what I do know is this:

I'm the kind of girl that can listen to one song on repeat for hours. Maybe because it reminds me of a memory, a person. Maybe because I like to have the background noise. Maybe just because I really, really, really, really like that song.


I'm the kind of girl that will make the same mistake repeatedly. Maybe because I don't care about the consequences of my actions. Maybe because I think that yes, I can make it right this time.


I'm the kind of girl that will give second and third and fourth chances to people that don't deserve them. Maybe because I believe, deep down, that people can learn from their mistakes, and change. Maybe because I just care about people so goddamn much and can't say no. Maybe because they mean too much to me to let them walk out of my life; after all, love is all about finding someone's imperfections and viewing them to be utterly, simplistically, perfect.

I'm the kind of girl that likes to start trouble, never knows what she wants to say but never shuts up, uses songs to express herself, and is completely and undoubtedly insane. I play my music way too loud, I trip over everything, and I make a fool of myself more often than not. Maybe because it's who I want to be. Maybe because it's who I need to be to survive in this goddamn world. I'm not going to change myself to fit a stereotype, to become what I "should" be.

This is who I am. Take it or leave it.
I'd rather you walk out of my life, leaving us both unsatisfied, than have you remain and try to "fix" me.
I am NOT broken.

Forgive Me For My Insensitivity

We get it, you're happy. Do you really need to be absolutely obnoxious about it? Do you really think everyone cares?
I'm sorry. That was rude of me. I'm glad that you're happy. I guess it just kind of kills me that you're so happy without me. I know, I know, I'm a bitch. My apologies.
But it's okay. When she breaks your heart like I know she will (probably soon, if we're being honest here) I know that you'll be devastated. And if that's what needs to happen in order to get you back, well, thank god this is only high school.
Pretty soon you're going to realize that I was right all along.
But how are you so okay? She won't let you touch her! I know you're probably dying inside. And even worse, I know that I'm right here. And you know that I'm right here. But somehow, we still aren't talking. For now.
You said forever. And I'll be damned if I don't hold you to that promise.

Where To Begin?

This is, what, my 4th attempt to start a blog in the past few years? I guess I'm just not very good at commitment. Well...that's a lie. I guess I'm just not very good at commitments that don't involve other people.

I'm at that point where I just need to let go...freefall. And maybe just letting myself ramble can help me do that? All I know is that I'm a girl with a broken heart that's impossibly full of hope. You'd think that by this point, I'd be one of those people that are terrified to trust other people and open up to them. But it seems the more people break my trust, the more I'm desperate to find someone who is trustworthy. My mistake. But as I've found in the past year, mistakes are only mistakes if you don't learn from them. 
So does that make you a mistake? Because I don't think I've learned what I should have. But I've learned so many other things. And I really don't think we're over yet.