Look into the mirror with me.

You see that girl?

No, not me, luv.
Look at yourself, for once?

Yes, that girl.

I love that girl.

I love everything about her.

Her body.
Her mind.
Her soul -- a touch of youth, but old at heart.

The way she talks.
The way she walks.
The way she breathes -- deeply at first, but softly as she sleeps on.

The way she writes.
The way she draws.
The way she creates -- with passion, but with a calmness unlike her.

But most of all,
I love the way she loves me.

I love the way she holds my hand.
I love the way she kisses my lips.
I love the way she loves -- cautiously as if I'll break, but then unbridled when she sees that I won't.

She holds my heart in her outstretched hands...
And I won't try to take it back.

I wish to tell him how
happy she makes me.
     But, sadly I do not know
his views on homosexuality.

Michael,
we talked about your wedding today.
you came to me, and enjoyed hearing you
telling me some personal things.
i now know the date of your wedding,
that you are only inviting family,
and that you want my advice on
where to spend your honeymoon.

i miss talking to you everyday,
but... its what needs to happen.
i am slowly falling out of love with you,
but... its what i need to do.

as always,
with love,
r

I um, I haven't really had much of a conversation with you.
Like, a real one. You know, the ones about how the air smells
in spring or how the stars look at night.
But, I keep having this dream where I tell you
that I've always thought that it was my fault.
That I deserved what happened to me.
And to be honest, you are the only person who
makes me feel like it wasn't.
So, thank you.

I want to thank you for saving me.
At first, I hated you because you had to be the one who
brought me to the counselor that day. I was so hell-bent on
wanting to die, that I completely forgot my reasons to live
even though their hands were guiding me to the
front office.

Thank you for being there for me when no one else was.
For asking that oblivious question, "Is it boy issues?" that day in Math class.
For staying with me no matter what.
For being my friend.
For... caring about me.

Michael, thank you.
Thank you so much for everything you are
and everything you ever will be.
I want to wish you the best on your engagement
and I really do hope you live a long and prosperious life with your significant other.

I love you, I really do.

i told her that her jokes were
always funny. that they always brightened up
my day, that she was the one who brings a
smile across my face without even
trying.

but, then i told her that the one joke
that i couldn't tolerate was the one
about self-harm. she looked up at me,
and i swear her heartrate soared,
and then said,
"i understand, it won't happen again."
i looked at her, confused.
why was that so easy to say?
i then looked down at my wrist and
gulped a bit louder than i should,
and she got out from behind her desk
and then proceeded to say,
"I did it as well, i cut in highschool."

i stared blankly at her,
not expecting to hear that
she knows the fears i have.
she knows of what its like to
have a blade go across your skin,
she knows.

i hate that she knows.
i hate that she went through that,
that she knows that feeling.
i hate it.

but, at the same time, im glad
she knows, because maybe she can
be the one who helps me from
going on some relapse
frenzy.

i just hope that
maybe she wants to
be the one who
helps me.

breathe in, breathe out
you're *so ugly,
no wonder he/she doesn't like you,
why would they anyways?
you're fat,
not pretty,
not smart enough,
not tall enough.
you're just not enough.
you're never enough.
and you never will be either.

breathe in, breathe out
my heart beats faster,
my saliva gets harder to swallow,
i start to choke on my own air,
my lungs tighten up,
my head starts to spin,
tears start rushing down my face,
there are too many people in here,
are they laughing at me?
they probably think i'm pathetic,
actually, you know what?
they are right, i am weak
i can barely even go a week without
relapsing and having some sort of
mental breakdown.
i cant, i cant, i cant.

breathe in, breathe out
help please someone help me
mike ashley amy anybody please
i need someone help me please
i don't know what to do anymore
i'm drowning in my own mind please
just someone help me!

breathe on, breathe out
just look at mike, he makes things better..
right? god, his big, beautiful blue eyes really
do make things so much better.
wow. i never realized his hair was so curly...
must be nice to be his fiancée, i'd do anything to
play with his hair. but, i'm not, of course,
i'm not good enough, too young, not pretty enough,
just..... not enough.

breathe in, breathe out
it's your fault you know.
you let him touch you.
you let him do those terrible things.
you let this happen.
you ******* ****.
great ******* job.

breathe in, breathe out
finally my breathing becomes a bit slower as my friends ask if
i'm okay. then i start to get back on track. i think about my
grades, friends, mike (in a more positive way) and i simply just
*breathe.

it was so easy to
sit next to him and
grab a donut. too
easy to say hello and
to pat him on the shoulder.
and yet, i wanted to stay there,
because he makes me feel so
comfortable.

then i left and walked towards your
door. i put a smile on my face and waited patiently
and then bam you came through the front doors and
hit me so hard with that smile of yours. i didn't realize how
much ive missed you. ive missed the way you talk and walk
and smile and just everything you are.... I missed you.

but, when you stopped to talk to some other guy i then
decided that i wasn't worth talking to because all i do is
flirt with you and that isn't okay, you're engaged and you don't
want me, no matter how much it seems like you do...

it wasn't you that made me feel non-worthy, it was that single factor
in the equation of us that kept me slowly backing away from your door,
into the hallway, and then out the door to my next class.

i wanted to talk about how i have a math test next period,
how i am taking two college courses and that one of them is
starting tomorrow! how even though my panic attacks are getting
worse, i havent cut in awhile. how my dad bailed on me once again,
and yet im kind of... okay. how i miss you and what i see in you isn't
just kid love. its real love....

it was so easy to talk to you too, but realizing how much i
needed you in my life compeltely ruined my confidence
and once again, i am back to ignoring you..

oh how i wish i could turn it off.

shes so tired.
you can see it in her eyes.
and yet she dares to take
college courses and dares to
wear her weird spock ears
to school.

she goes to soccer every day till
6 and still does her homework.
she wakes up at 6 every day and
tries her hardest to get some
sleep at night.

she over thinks (sign of intelligence, right?)
everything and she is kind of a
perfectionist when it comes to school.
shes been slacking with her artwork and
reading but she still drinks green tea everyday.
she just wants to live and to stop being
so afraid of everything.

and her daddy issues slowly get
worse and she shelters herself from
any sort of affection, which is not
okay because she knows that so many
people care for her, right?
dont they?
......

right?

her panic attacks have been getting
worse but she hasnt cut in awhile
and she tries so hard to be
proud but its so hard because
she can barely even breathe
anymore.

so happy that you gave me
extra credit.
i was literally crying because of
the B i got on the test today
and then you realized how much
i wanted that A, so you
let me have it.

oh dear god, thank you!
im just so happy, ah!