When we first met, after proper introductions, you asked me who I was.
"But what do you mean?", I asked, "I just told you who I was."
"No", you said.
"Who are you?"

So I lifted my arms and rolled up my jeans.

"Here", I said.
"This is my story.
These are not scars, oh no.
They are much more than that.
These marks are my scratched out words and mistakes on blank pages.
They are the words that I said wrong and still had time to erase.
Except for that one, I fell off my bike here.

If you must read, please do so carefully.
My pages are a little fragile from the abuse caused by the wrong people reading me.
I still have a doggy ear fold from one who never finished reading."

Please don't look at me like that.
I wasn't the one who delivered the first blow, the first push.
It was you!
Yes, you with the wide eyes and closed heart.
You who singlehandedly brought me to my demise.
All it took was a glance and a couple of words from your lying mouth.
Nothing more, nothing less.

"Bulimia nervosa, an eating disorder that involves bingeing on food followed by purging, can cause gum disease, osteoporosis, kidney disease, heart disease, and death. Bulimia affects mostly women and teens." - WebMD.com*

My eyes blurred as I wiped away the remaining evidence from my mouth.
I cried.

It seems that bulimia had taken over my life these past couple of months.
Even my hands shake now.
For some reason, I didn't seem to care that I could give myself cancer with this, that I could die from this.

My headaches have gotten worse, my depression even more intense.
And my poor, sweet mother, willing to believe that I am sick and NOT doing this to myself.

Could I really do this to her?
She now has the duty to care for several children that are not hers because she cares too much.
She tries, but she no longer listens to her own children.

My mother is broken.
Revealing this to her will only break her more.

So I'll keep quiet.
Purging and ridding myself of my shame and self respect.
What could possibly be worse?

I've been sitting here staring at the clock on the wall and I've been laying here praying, praying she won't call...
I've been replaced haven't I? You don't have to say it out loud, I can see it. No, that's the wrong thing to say. I don't see it. I don't see you at all anymore.

Darling, you are the only exception.
I will love you unconditionally, no matter what.

You love blow and I love puff...
As much as I don't want to admit it, we aren't that much alike.
Nothing can change that.

You make me crazier...
I swear that my head used to spin like a tilt-a-whirl when I was around you.

I'll keep you my ***** little secret.
Is that all that I was to you?

Cause I'm falling for you now...
Please don't lie to me. I don't know if its worse than the actual honest words that you speak to me.

Liar, liar. Don't cry on my shoulder.
Could better words have been used to describe you?

My love's like a star, yeah, you can't always see it, but you know that I'm always there.
Yes, you were there. Always ignoring me. What a ******* lie.

Never mind, I'll find someone like you.
Impossible.

Did you forget that I was even alive?
Please don't?

I just can't stop loving you.
Unfortunately, even after suffering in silence because of you, I just can't stop going back to you.

Please, please don't leave me?*
I love you...

I love the way your hair falls over your eyes and glasses. It gives off a sense of mystery that baffles me.
I love how tall you are. It makes me feel small and secure next to you.
I love the way you play your saxophone. It gives me chills whenever I hear it and they last for hours.
I love how you are with your family. It makes me think of a possible future together.
I love the way you talk, so soft, yet demanding attention. It reminds me of a beautiful flower that enthralls whoever sees it.
I love the way you smile and how rarely I get to see it in its true form. It makes me want to work all the more harder to draw it out.
I love how silly you act sometimes. It reminds me of the child you still possess.
I love the way you are always so sweet. It makes me think of how even my favorite candy couldn't beat you with it's sugar.
I love how you love me. It makes me want to be a better person.

They say the best conversations happen at 2 in the morning.
"Hi"
"Hi :)"
"How was your day?"
"I think I love you..."
"Really? I love you too..."
Too bad I never hit send in the first place.

I noticed something was wrong when I stopped singing. This was my outlet, my way of expressing all of my feelings. Everything I had ever thought was brought to life by song. Then I stopped, and it was all your fault. No song seemed to describe how I felt about you. I liked you. I hated you. I adored you. I cursed you. But most of all, I loved you.

So I started writing. To cover up my feelings with metaphors and similes that nobody but me understood.

I've thought about showing you these writings. I knew you would understand them. You were so much like me. You knew my thoughts better than I did. But I was scared. Scared to show you how I felt because like you with the world, I was scared that you wouldn't accept me.

When I became aware of this, how I felt, I became distant. I didn't want you to see how I had grown to love you. I knew you would. You were like me. You knew something was wrong and when you asked me about it, I avoided you even more. This hurt me so much more than I think it did you.

I stopped singing. This one dead spark is what lit up a whole new world of mysteries and confusion about you and me alike. That was it. One simple thing.

I stopped singing.

Age: 1
There's really not much to remember from a year of being born.

Age: 2
Still nothing.

Age: 3
Nope

Age: 4
Now we're getting somewhere. Dad left. He left us with a an angry hole in the wall from where I saw him kick.

Age: 5
My cousin burned my hand severely with an iron this year. I remember watching all of the other kids got to ride their bike and play around. And me? Holding my bandaged hand from the side of the street.

Age: 6
There's a faint memory of a pink and yellow skirt that I wore all of the time. I was in love from the first time my mom brought it home. This was the year I received the infamous Care Bear that all of my family soon learned to love like they did me.

Age: 7
I went trick-or-treating as a princess this year. It was the best of them all. Mom found someone else to "love".

Age: 8
I lost my Care Bear. This was enough to ruin the rest of the year. I entered the third grade at a new school that mom said was closer to our real house. I realized that my dads side of the family didn't like me. I wonder why.

Age: 9
The cousin who burned my hand? I burned her with a firework stick in the ****. It was an accident of course. The nurse pulled me out of class and had a very personal talk with me about my growing *****.

Age: 10
In the fifth grade, I experienced my first gain and loss of friendship. It prepared me for the years to come.

Age: 11
The sixth grade; the year that I met all of the important people in my life. This is the only explanation needed. Most importantly, I met you.

Age: 12
She ran away from home and when I finally found her, we cried together in her room. I soon left her.

Age: 13
Finally a teenager and still trying to escape my growing feelings for you. Ah the eighth grade.

Age: 14
Ashly became the closest thing I had to a best friend. And then there was you...

Age: 15
We drifted and Ashly became so much more closer. It's still a little hard to talk to you when I know that you have new friends and that you might not miss me. We still talk and every once in a while, I sense hope...

As I sit here in my room, I start to wonder if you feel the same way I do.
If it pains you to see me with someone else, like it does to me.
If you think about me 24/7 like I think about you.
If it warms your heart to see me happy like it does to me.
If when you see me, it makes your day like you make mine.
If you feel those huge butterflies inside like I do.
If no matter how hard you try, you can't get me out of your head like I can't.
If I send your heart racing with one look, like you do to me.
If you can get an impossible high when I'm around, like I can with you.
If you can read me like an open book like I can with you.
If you spend an incredible amount of time constantly checking to see if I call or text you the way I do.
If you want to be the only one to make me smile and laugh like I do.
If maybe you feel like the whole world can hear your heart beating loudly like I do.
If you can tell what I'm feeling, like how I wish I could with you.
If you just want to hold me and never let go, like I wish I could.
If you would wish to be with me all the time like I wish you would.
If you love me like I love you.

I want to be the one to make you smile that awfully beautiful smile.
To be the one that you ask for advice.
I want to be the one that you come to for comfort.
To be the one that gets to see you at your best and your worst.
I want to be the one you play your beautiful saxophone for.
To simply be your muse.
I want to be the person you can tell all of your ***** secrets.
To be the diary that you talk to every day.
I want to be the stars that fill your beautiful night sky.
To be the sunshine that can break through your clouds of sadness.
I want to be the music you love so much.
To be that one song that you always sing no matter what.
I want to be the air you breathe.
To be the one thing you badly need to survive.

To be frank,
I want to be the one that you love.

I can feel the tension even through the ***** speckled glass seperating us.
Unsolved questions and answers linger in the lane between us; captivating and enthralling us.
It's funny how we knew each other so well.
Then suddenly, we knew nothing.
Maybe you hated me or maybe I just assumed without ever taking you into consideration.
Either way, it's a moot point now.

We stare at each other like deer caught in headlights; scared to look away.
It seems like an eternity has passed when I finally start to react.
That's also when I become aware of the tear rolling down my cheek.
My lips start to form themselves around your name and all too suddenly the light turns a murky green, signaling the lonely drivers and passengers to drive off; to move on.
As we leave each other, my mouth forms a semi-smile hoping for forgiveness; hoping for one in return.

It's too late.

You're gone now.
Just another car in a lane driving off; driving away from me.
Maybe it's for the best.
Perhaps there was things left unspoken and unthought of.
I guess now we'll never know.