I wouldn't change my past because it made me who I am.
I wouldn't change my past because I have grown wise and experienced from it.
I wouldn't change my past because as messy and complex as my life is I have lots of good memories as well as bad memories.
I wouldn't change my past because I don't want to be something I am not.

Stitches out and I still feel the pain.
It ebbs and flows.
Bruise is fading and skin is sealing up.
Soon becoming a scar.
Healing is not so far.

It's no surprise to ache everywhere because the white cells are protecting my healing wound.
I feel fragile and vulnerable physically.
It's as if every part of me is waiting to be protected again. Yet healing requires focus and energy maybe that is why.
I don't know.

It's not always figure out someone's weaknesses and strengths to get out of a situation sometimes it's seeing all of potential of a good person and forgetting they aren't that angel yet in fact a demon.
It's not always telling someone the root of their hurt sometimes it's seeing a monster and loving them as if they are human because the world is cruel enough.
It's not always defending your character to someone that won't listen sometimes it's showing someone that not all angels are gods to be worshipped.
It's not always starting a rebellion from Christianize society sometimes it's acting as if you aren't a judge but a friend who is willing to look past the flaws to see someone worth through hell and back for.
Changing the Game is a matter of humanity, it's up to us to change the world.

The Reality is my big sister and big brother used to hold the family together. Now the responsibilities are passed down to my little sister and I. Sometimes I have no idea what I am doing but trying my best to keep the family together. I didn't know that it would be so much work and so complex.
My big sister and my big brother made the responsibilities look so easy maybe it's because they are natural socializers. Or maybe I have more social development to do. My family is dysfunctional and complains about each other when the other isn't around.
My little sister and I have mental illnesses which makes socializing ******* both of us. My big sister and big brother may seem perfect but they aren't. They are human like me. They were spoiled with attention, love and affection while I knew I was loved since I was child it's just attention and affection weren't a given to me like it was to them. The Reality is I had a somewhat good childhood with my little sister alongside me. I am rebellious, resourceful, resilient and brave. It takes a lot to be all that.

A flicker of pain. Blood dripping.
An open wound. A rush to the hospital.
In the ER waiting for a doctor to close up the ****.
The sting of a needle to numb my pain.
Couldn't feel my arm for the rest of the night.
Thick string going beneath my skin and tugging at my skin.
A doctor with steady hands. He doesn't mind the blood oozing from my wound. Slowly my wound got closed up.
Now my wound is healing at it's own pace.
I am grateful for my coworkers; the cashier who called the store manager to meet me at the hospital and the pizza maker who drove me to the hospital.
I want to thank the hospital staff for taking care of me that evening.

Mentally I feel like I could sleep for days in this weird sense of calmness. Psychologically I feel at peace with my life.
Physically I keep glancing at my arm because I get worried for myself since it's healing but there is bruising around my stitches.
Healing is the art of becoming a better person to the point where ruts are just detours in life.
Healing is telling people that you survived life's traumas and grief with a resilient mind.
Healing is running into the painful memories and not backing down.
Healing is many things and many people don't know how to heal themselves because that's life.

I accidently got my arm cut by the metal cutter of a saran wrap box when I was putting away dough buckets.
I got five stitches in my arm but I am okay. It hurts a lot since yesterday I couldn't feel my arm at all due to the numbing injection the doctor gave me. Feeling pain is okay it's just today I feel really tired as if all of energy got drained out of me no matter how much coffee I have. I am excited for my future scar but for right now I have to deal with the pain.

My little sister grew up being my translator. I would be lost without her. I have always been quiet, soft spoken and sensitive.
People didn't understand why I was so shy. I had to repeat myself a lot which I hated.
My little sister went with me everywhere to be my voice. I have a voice of my own and I can speak for myself it just took me awhile to be confident. I would make snarky comments and my little sister would try to insult me which wouldn't work.
We would fight a lot as sisters do. Mom and dad would take my side in a heated argument. Mom and dad wanted my little sister to be just like me which is probably why my little sister was always so cranky.
I always wanted her to be herself as any good sister would want.

I always hung out with the weird kids ever since kindergarten.
I was bullied because I didn't want to be popular. Anytime a popular kid wanted to put me into their ranks I got anxious and returned to my weird friends because my weird friends treated me as their equal.
The popular kids treated me like an outcast. I didn't understand what it was like to be cool. I grew up going to the doctor frequently because I was a special needs kid. I had speech problems, I was shy, I wasn't physically strong because I had a limp since my knees used to be sensitive. I grew physically stronger throughout the years because of my physical therapy, my speech teacher helped me stop slurring my words so I could articulate my words with lots of effort, my reading tutors throughout the years helped me become the avid reader that I am today and my counselors throughout the years helped become emotionally intelligent.
Being Weird is an Honor because no matter the stigma it's about quality not quantity.

My Work Best Friend makes me the most joyful and peaceful person ever. Whenever she compliments me my heart warms up and I feel vulnerable in a good way. I trust her and she trusts me.
We are close to each other. Whenever she calls me the best pizza maker in the world I just smile and glance her way.
Everything just feels natural and right whenever I am around my Work Best Friend. I don't have to be stoic around her. I don't have to be someone that I am not and something that I am not.
She just understands me in a way that I haven't experienced in 6 years since I loss The Girl with Grayish Blue Eyes.
I respect her in a way that she knows that she is valuable to me.
She is my equal in wit and in charm therefore she is worthy of title of being my best friend. Very few people in my life make me joyful and peaceful yet I don't mind. To be insane is to be observant.

In Fall it's thick jackets, warm mugs of coffee or hot cocoa, fuzzy blankets, red noses, chills of the unknown along the spine and reading folktales.
Waiting for the Cold because I binge read my to-be-read list when it's too cold to go outside. Sometimes I go outside anyways because the smell of crisp autumn leaves, the shiver of curiosity, the tingling of knowledge flowing through the mind and the joy of embracing the mood-swings.
Waiting for the Cold because being bipolar means having grief that makes you relive the past, reevaluating friendships, and getting caught up in past moments.

The rapping, the tapping and the zooming speed of being Wired.
The restlessness, the heart pounding and the blood-rushing of being Wired. It's not a buzz like you get from alcohol.
It's not a high like you get from smoking ****.
It's a knowledge thirst like nothing else.
It's collecting books but being too full of thoughts to actually read them. It's going to library finding my books with a bookmark in them.
No one goes near the mental illness section of the library.
People are afraid of acknowledging mental illnesses.
The urge of wanting to read those books further. The feeling of unexplainable calm in the mind.

No one in my family cares about what I do at the library.
I love reading about my mental illnesses and it's interesting.
It's adventurous. It's curiosity.
They don't understand and that is what hurts my heart.
They don't understand that I seek knowledge in books.
They don't understand that I am a book addict so sometimes I don't check out books because it feels like an experience that is sacred to me.

Mental illnesses aren't funny.
Mental disabilities aren't funny.
Some moments are comedy.
Having cringy moments at a young age aren't funny they are embarrassing.
Having mental moments aren't funny it's degrading to be made fun of for something you can't change about yourself.
Some moments where people are equals and being stupid together is comedy.

Everyone have their own perspective and everyone exists on some level of consciousness.
People trust some certain group in a way that is part of human nature.
Existing is simple but Trust is difficult.
Trust is something that needs to be earned and nurtured within a friendship or relationship. Trust is peeling away the act and the mask to reveal who you really are which is the most intimate thing anyone can do.
Existing is living in a world that is afraid of realness. Existing is going through life as though each day is a stepping stone.
Which one is harder to do Existing or Trust?

He is a sweetheart to those who work hard.
He is like a brother to me.
He may be demanding, entitled and an idiot but he is a good man.
He defends my honor on multiple occasions to my boss and to customers. He listens to me. He helps me clean dishes in the kitchen.
He helps prep vegetables with me and he makes me smile on long nights. He treats me like the queen that I am.
He is trustworthy, loyal, speaks his mind and makes everyone feel seen.

He isn't perfect. In fact he is a **** in many ways. He is the new kid at the gas station I work at. He said rumors that weren't true to my coworkers. At first my bosses believed him then everyone figured out he was wrong about me in many ways.
He assumes anything about everyone around him and everyone of my coworkers hates him for spreading rumors about me.
He picks hard battles against the kitchen manager and the store manager. He respects no one at work. He thinks everyone is against him. He forgot about manners when customers be rude to him.

I am confident, brave and fearless.
Why do I care about how I present myself?
I believe in soulmates but I don't trust people.
I believe in deep, soulful romance and in God. Yet I don't judge people, I just observe people. I write about what I know which is a lot for my age. I have experienced a lot.
My wants are very little and my needs are a lot.
I am complex, simple, intelligent and mature. To love people is giving them chances to hurt me. To care for people is giving them chances to break my heart. I take the risks yet among geniuses I still feel valued as an equal. Time is just a variable in a machine bigger than all of us.
To be human is to be vulnerable and strong at the same time.

I don't have a *** drive. I know it exists somewhere in me but I know that I am not asexual. I know how deep I can love and care for someone platonically and romantically. It's just I don't understand people my age wanting to sleep with each other.
Even when I was in middle school I didn't understand the appeal of sleeping with someone. I know it's primal nature to every creature on the planet but to me I just want to trust someone who wants to love me. I know it sounds simple but I don't trust people.
I enjoy understanding things but I don't gain ****** pleasure from outsmarting people.
The Things I Don't Understand is personal to me. Maybe it's because of all my mental illnesses I don't understand the why.

People now a days says that, "Vibes are everything" well it's a half truth. Personality and true heart is everything because vibes are one thing but who someone really is. That's how you know.
People are complicated, messy, strange and unsure how to go through life. It's instincts that help me through life because knowing who brings out the worst in people is how I use opposite energy.
I counteract bad people's actions by taking their venom and use my actions to be the antidote.

I gave him hundreds of dollars from my savings account twice so he can pay his bills.
He is grateful but I don't want this to be every month. I have a life to live and I still need to be paid back.
I am a writer and what I put in my savings is my business.
Now I have to wait for him to pay me. He doesn't care that I am back where I started. He doesn't understand that I am not rich.
I save up my money. I have a plan to get out of this town. I have to keep this a secret from my family. He doesn't understand and I hate being his banker. This is what I get for having a good heart.

I was taught to be cold and calculated by my mother.
I was emotionally and mentally neglected by her.
Everything I learned about mentality and emotions was from cause and effect. I was raised by therapists of all sorts, be beloved by everyone who have ever met me, church moms who cared about me and youth pastors treating me like I was their kid.
My mom always says when someone asks how her kids ended up so great, "God raised my kids." In a way that's true.
Being the only special needs kid in my family means I had to work 4 times harder than my siblings in order to get any praise from my parents. I learned faster than siblings because they trusted too easily in humanity and I trusted too little in humanity.
I knew the expectations and pressure of being myself.

Imagine a blank canvas. Pizza dough is like that before the sauce is on it. It's squishy, soft and flexible. It's saucy, full of ingredients and complex. Every pizza has it's own type of sauce.
Every pizza has it's own way to be made.
It's fun and thrilling to go through a dinner rush.
Tons of orders. Multiple types of pizzas. Different sauces. Different meats and vegetables. The loud beeping of online orders coming in.
The phones ringing off their ends. The satisfaction of going hours without taking a break. Now I sound like a workaholic.
Maybe I am I don't know it's my first job. I am good at my job and everyone knows it.

She is black and I am white.
I work in the kitchen most of the time and she works the cash register every night. She is a lesbian and I am bisexual.
I met her wife and kids. Great people. We were both new at the gas station then we became best friends in the matter of weeks.
We keep each other sane. I appreciate and enjoy every hour I get to spend with her. She calls me her favorite person.
She keeps me human and I am glad met her. I knew the first day I met her, she was one of a kind.

Kind, light blue eyes and bright blonde hair.
He is tough on everyone but sweet to those who work hard.
He isn't from my small town. He like an older brother that I never knew that I wanted. Someone who can hold me accountable for my pacing when making pizzas and rewards me for having a good ethic with free food. He is the kitchen manager at the gas station I work at.
He is adorably mainstream cultured and he makes dad jokes on the clock. I trust him because he treats me as though I am normal when I know that I am not but I don't mind. Mostly because he sees me as his equal and he trust me with the kitchen. Sure sometimes he is a **** but sometimes he have to be in order for other people to see things his way.

I grew up in my church. There are countless broken, sinful people who go to church. They are all the same. Rich people getting richer and poor people inheriting the kingdom of God.
I have heard all of the true stories of countless people from my family's perspectives.
Twisted People with twisted ideas go to church too. They bring good people's reputations down to dirt and lift themselves up as if it's their purpose. I don't envy rich, spoiled people because they live empty lives in comfort of their own fantasies.
Twisted People wrought within their own hells.

Lost people are simply people who want a tribe.
Broken hearted people want people who can fill that void.
Broken minded people want people who can understand them.
It is easy to know because I used to be a lost and lonely person a long time ago. I was a troubled, strange adorable kid who made friends fast and they were usually as weird as I was.
Finding broken people are easy to search for when you are one.
I won't tell their true stories I have a moral code when it comes to friends of old. My past is mine and no one can take that away from me. I can only tell my own stories from my perspective.

Sometimes I am a hero and other times I am a villain.
The stories change from person to person.
I embrace my madness and my flaws.
Look me in the eyes, what do you see?
I am insane and I am okay with that. Other people aren't okay with my insanity. I can't cure my insanity. It's simply there lurking and waiting for me to feel insecure.
Look me in the eyes, do I seem like the person to manipulate anyone?
Let me answer that for you no I don't use people that's boring and evil. People use me not the other way around.

If you ask me why I am turning on The Girl with Green Eyes. Well here is the short answer she is no friend nor ally of mine.
If you ask me why I wrote so much about her. It is simply because she deserved her rude awakening from me, her closest companion.
If you ask me why I want to hurt her reputation now it's because she deserves my resignation from the job of being her best friend.
If you ask me why I would ever do that to someone so spoiled. It is simply she never once understood me the way I understood her.
I know her true self like it's the back of my hand.
If you ask me why. It's a long story.

I will only say this once The Girl with Green Eyes can have her perfect life just without me to save her. I was always her hero. To her I was the perfect vulnerable girl who she could rebuke.
Am I crazy? Yes. Am I beautiful? Hell yeah! Do I need The Girl with Green Eyes? Hell no! She needs me to keep her life interesting and I am sick of her act. I always supported her at choir concerts, musicals and recitals. She always forgot that I existed until we started praying together and singing in praise band together. I am not the only crazy one in the friendship. She abandons anyone who sins more than she does. She patronize and Christianize anyone she can't control. She got a rare cancer while I was in college. She once told me how her doctor visits went.
She never gave up her ego, envy, selfishness and jealousness so she isn't perfect. She wonders why she is empty when she should be wondering why she gave up on people who could have redeemed her. Checkmate princess.

You may fit into the perfect Christian girl lifestyle but you were never me. You never walked in my shoes because you were a coward.
You are afraid of your own shadow because you leave a trail of broken hearts and lost souls behind you. Those lost people trusted you with their lives and you spilled the blood to the popular kids.
I guess that's why you only ever had me by your side. They couldn't handle your perfect green eyes and rockin' ***. Your pure hearted and virtuous bull crap is underneath that mask you call your personality. You selfish, self-absorbed, relentless, innocent and spoiled brat fooled everyone around you but you haven't fooled me. I see right through you and I hate the monster you have became.
I trusted you but never again. You push everyone away from you and keep your secrets to yourself because you are afraid of dying alone.
Remind me to never bring you to my wars ever again because traitors like you deserve the sadness that comes with being alone. Look at your own sins and cry your heart out because this is where I say step off away from me, demon.

The Girl with Green Eyes never once stopped the rumors and gossip about me.
The Girl with Green Eyes never once defended my honor when I wasn't around.
The Girl with Green Eyes isn't a best friend at all and she isn't even an ally to me in my personal wars anymore because I don't trust her.
The Girl with Green Eyes was a fluke on my judgement and I don't know how I could that she was always ordinary.
The Girl with Green Eyes deserves her loneliness and her crowds because she never deserved my love nor friendship.
The Girl with Green Eyes isn't human because demons like her deserve to burn in hell.
She will forever be haunted by my poetry because I don't care anymore about what she thinks of me.
This vengeful angel have stories of truths to tell and that demon or siren whatever she is won't ever hold me back.

Introversion is a state of a mind.
Introversion is freedom from expectations.
Introversion is taking chances and deeply thinking about life.
Introversion is respecting people's boundaries and being overly polite.
Introversion is getting close to people in short amount of time by being real with them.
Introversion is making people comfortable in your presence by valuing their thoughts.
Introversion is not a phase just because the movies want you to believe something is wrong with you doesn't mean there actually is.

Normal people are ignorant, self-absorbed, controlled by society and lonely. I understand people far too well and sometimes I forget that I am human too. I may not be normal in any way shape or form but my empathy makes me feel beyond human in some ways.
I can read who someone is by their habits, in their actions and how they speak. Characteristics are easy to me because I am writer it's practically my job to observe everyone and everything with a curious point of view. Being mentally ill I gain wisdom through my experiences. I don't want to bottle up my emotions because that's unhealthy psychologically and mentally.

To think procreating as the goal of dating seems shallow.
Why not seek love and trust for a marriage instead of ****** pleasure? ****** pleasure isn't everything.
To lust is gain infatuation from physical attraction. To love is to be selfless beyond reason. To trust is to be vulnerable.

I am dramatic, manic-depressive, bipolar and a master of my own emotions. Trauma is an old friend of mine. I am used to be abandoned, people being charmed by my personality, people thinking that I am insane and my closest friends not knowing what to do with me. I can't turn off my emotions trust me I have tried in my past many times. I can't be emotionless but I can act like I don't care which is close enough. I will stay away from people when I feel bad and by bad I mean like pressure to the back of my eyes, world spinning, can't breathe type of insanity.
I am used to being insane but the affect my insanity have on people is different for everyone in my life.

Everyone dies eventually.
We don't get to choose when we die. Suicide is one way of choosing death but not everyone chooses it.
There are goodbyes, eulogies, crying people, sympathies and wills to be read. Endings aren't all bad and beginnings aren't all good.
Ashes to ashes and dust to dust. To dust we shall return.
I have been to so many funerals in my lifetime it's like death follows me. I used to think anyone who gets close to me will end up dead. Now I think death and grief are just part of trauma. I know it's a dark thought but it's what I believe.

No one cares because No One is Watching.
If the crowds aren't watching then still be you.
If no one is paying attention then give them small interesting details about you that will get them begging for more.
If no one is giving a **** then surprise everyone with devote stubbornness and strong headedness.
Being who you are doesn't make you less human. Being emotional doesn't make you worthless. Being the strong and vulnerable friend doesn't make you lonely. If being a softie makes you a loser then watch how they end up alone and you with plenty of friends because having a heart doesn't make you a loser it makes you human.
The heartless and soulless people were scorned by their past but that doesn't them any less human or any less of a ****.
Being considered an equal among geniuses is an honor because equality is what everyone wants. Respect is given, trust is earned and honor is put under consideration until proven right.

To be Perceived is to be noticed. To be noticed is an honor because being aware of people around you is awareness of others.
To be the one who notices everything is a pleasure but it's also a lot of responsibility. I have to be accurate, out-spoken, truthful and be able explain my point of view in detail. I know that I am describing what it is like to be a writer but stay with me on my tangents. It might benefit you or it might confuse you to the point of insanity.
As I was saying perspective is everything and without a main point to something you will get lost in yourself. Interesting or boring if what you are saying doesn't grab them by the ears then shut up.

We are humans living in a Flawed System.
Where having a heart and a mind is frowned upon.
Where being brainwashed by society is normal.
Where billionaires runaway from plagues instead of curing them.
Where being poor gives you empathy and being rich gives you sympathy somewhere in between is apathy. To not care is be lonely.
To care too much is be beloved. Somewhere in between is an average life. I don't know what average and normalcy is.
I am a special needs kid who is mentally disabled and mentally ill.
To be mental is to have people invalidate the disability and the illnesses. I am used by society for my strengths. My weaknesses are disregarded. To live is to be misunderstood.

Everyone has a comfort zone. It's human to have one.
My comfort zone is my bedroom. I get my best writings done on my bed. But I can't live in my bedroom forever. I socialize and I try to open up my heart to people. The thing is I don't trust people.
I did once a long time ago. I don't know when to shut up when I open up my heart. I guess whatever is left of my heart there is still hope somewhere in there. I want to permission to be me.
I want permission to have a relentless heart and a restless mind.
I am not normal because I never have been normal.
I don't need validation nor people to like me.
I need to be seen for who I am. And who is that?
I would say that I am a bipolar, high functioning sociopath and most importantly a creative writer. I don't ask for praise, being criticized and being called strange. I just ask for human decency, my boundaries to be respected, my silence to be honored and my life to be stable.

You want space, time and silence from me. I can accept that.
I am a burden to you and I am too much for you.
For someone who calls me bestie and weirdly different I am hardly shocked you didn't tell me yourself.
You told my boss and let him run me through the wringer.
You aren't me. I trust you. Sure I care too much and I love too much.
You are new to my life. I expected some sort of communication from you. If you wanted time, space and silence from me you have it now.
I respect you. So here is my radio silence.

To be popular is to be criticized, taken for granted, abandoned by society and lonely by envy.
I know so I grew up popular at church. I used to envy the rich because I grew up poor. I don't anymore. I am enriched with good memories.
I was the special needs kid that got people's attention because I could observe everyone's social habits and insecurities. I was spiritual and clairvoyant from a young age. I could discern things since I was 7. A lot of responsibility for someone so young.
Everyone in my small religious town knew my last name and expectations were given to me when I was a kid because I was mentally disabled as school called my neuro-diversities.
Popularity is worthless, just because someone knows a small percentage about you doesn't make you a star. You make you a star not other people.

When you have story so full of details, wonders and converging side characters it becomes impossible to follow just one main plot line.
When your story is full of tragedies, hilarious moments, heart warming people, cold as ice radio silences and dramatic misunderstandings it's as though the story is already overflowing with curiosity.
To Let Go of the past, the hate, the ego and the rage you are left with a heart and soul. What will be left if take away all of that? Will you be free or will you be nothing? What are humans without rage and envy?
To Let Go of the pain and sorrow as well as learn from past mistakes you become a hero with glorious purpose or a rebel with trust issues.
I became a rebel with trust issues became being a hero is overrated and I can't save everyone, that's my downfall. I want to help everyone but not everyone is worth saving. Demons lurk in the shadows waiting for their next vicious move against humanity. Beasts fear vengeful angels. I am not lonely but I am insane. I am not afraid of the beasts and demons anymore they are powerless against my wits.

When I Dance at weddings I am free.
When I Dance in the shower I am myself.
Either way I am still good at dancing.
When I Dance at school dances, homecoming and prom was the most fun way back when.

I am going to see her this Sunday at someone's wedding. She is going to be stunning and my heart will race. My heart always race with her around. She is my best friend. It has been 9 years since we became friends at youth group.
Praying with her was my way of telling her that I trusted her. I observe everything and she isn't perfect. No one is perfect. I have met beasts, demons, angels and humans because the bad, the worst and the good are all just labels we put into stories. I don't trust people. I did once when I was younger.
I was naive, hopeful, the outcast and the sunshine in people's lives.
I grew up because my heroes were selfish and abandoned me to deal with my own problems, my expectations of humanity broke my heart repeatedly and my villains were bullies with inflated egos.
I don't have a perfect life and I am okay with that. I am always learning from my past and I am grateful for my wild life.
It's mine and I am not alone anymore because I have my closest friends, my good friends, my misfit army and people I meet at Coffee Boy's coffee shop in town.

Maybe I am still in love with my straight Christian green eyed best friend. But that would be insane. Absolutely insane.
Maybe she changed while on her internship in Ohio. I mean she wants to be a photographer now. That's good I think, I hope.
Maybe she isn't as bad as I thought she was. No that's ridiculous even by my standards. She is still a hubris idiot with a kind heart.
Maybe, she rebuked me for being bi and she would never accept the fact I had a crush on her in high school. Why do she have to be so adorable and beautiful?
Maybe we aren't so different. She is still human and I am this Phantom that makes pain into poetry.
Maybe she was lonely without me which I highly doubt. She is this angelic gorgeous girl that follows all of the rules and I am this nerdy, out-spoken, rebellious girl that knows where I am going in life.
I don't follow all of the rules, I break the status quote, I challenge society's perspectives with my own and I lead my misfit army.
Maybe she is the beta wolf now and I am the alpha wolf because she is way too polite to challenge anyone to a battle of wits where as I do it all of the time. I pick my battles, fight my demons, embrace the path I am going on, prove people wrong all of the time, let people know my opinions and write until I feel free. What is she without me? She would be lost, heart-broken and confused without me.

Now that The Girl with Green Eyes is back in town I don't know what to do. I am panicking like would if one of my coworkers talks to her and me being The Phantom becomes a joke to her.
I enjoy being mysterious, fun-loving, outgoing, argumentative, three steps ahead of the crowd and the rebel of poetry.
Would if she finds out about her poems and hates me? Would if she depicts me as a villain to her? Would if she figures out that I gave away her secrets so I could have my own peace?
I feel vulnerable and I am going insane.

The Girl with Green Eyes is back in town. I expected her to be back in town sometime. It's just seeing her again makes me soft as if my heart warms inside my chest and I can't help myself by smiling like a dork.
Hugging her again reminds me of the good old days where we were the power duo of the church. We still are the power duo of best friends going on two different paths. She is still an idiot that sings like an angel and she is still beautiful to me. She is a good person and I know her heart as though it's my own. I don't hate her and I never hated her. It's just she is everything I am not. She blends into this small religious town, she is the poster girl of worship band, she is popular because everyone loves her and she is agreeable.
In this town we are a package deal you can't have one without the other. Sometimes I am envious of her because she is the picture perfect straight girl that makes me less lonely at church and I can't lose her. Not yet. She is just so predictable and I can't help myself by falling for her charm in a platonic way. She is my weakness maybe it's because she helped me overcome my stage fright, my fear of being second best and my fear of being abandoned. She never gives up on me and I believe in the good within her.
She apologized for being a **** to me last summer and I deleted the text because I was still angry at her. I forgive her now because I know she depends on me to be her hero when I am a rebel with trust issues. She is always there when I needed her and I am always there for her when she needs me. That's what best friends are for. Maybe it's because we have been best friends for 9 years and I know hurting her would feel good for 5 seconds but not worth losing her for a lifetime.