One day
I'm going to meet someone,
And they are going to make me forget about every heartbreak,
Every game,
Every lie that's been said.

That somebody is going to make me forget about the boy I once loved.
The ones who come crawling back to me.
The ones I saw a future with.

I can't wait until that day comes,
Because I'm honestly so tired and I can't breathe.

My eyes are bloodshot.
My heart is cold.
Everything I feared is happening.

But one day, it'll be okay.
I'll have forgotten about you and the memories we shared.
I'll be loved, in a way no one has been able to before.
And I'll be okay.

One day.

I'm not insecure. I'm jealous and unrightfully so. You're not mine.  I'm jealous of anyone who catches your eye, I'm jealous of anyone who snags your attention. I'm jealous of the ones who take your time. I'm insanely jealous of anyone who makes you smile, feel, live more than I do. I have 41 days, 16 hours and approximately 32 minutes left here. I completely understand that you would not want to commit to that, to me when I will be 800 miles away. But I'm still here for now. I'm here now. Make these moments count. These should be what matter. Don't be scared, because you know I'm going to leave please. I just want to love you deeper than anyone else has, or will. Why can't you let me?

You asked me tonight if I remembered our first kiss. It occurred to me that I remember everything. Early that Wednesday morning standing outside of the liquor store with a man I barely knew, I remember looking at you and thinking "we've been out all night, it's been 6 hours, is he going to make a move or" and then bam. Hands wondered, people stared, breaths were shallow. I remember how nervous I was every time I saw you following that night. It was like a rush ran through my body. Was I still what you wanted? Was I pretty enough, funny enough, smart enough, good enough? I remember the first night you stayed over without my parents approval, without my parents even knowing who you were, thinking to myself "I hope this boy is worth all that im risking". The endless nights I would catch you staring from the corner of my eye. The night I leaned over and kissed you as I almost vocalized "**** is this going to hurt". Or the first time you told me you loved me. The words cut through the silence as I left for work while crippling fear flooded my being. I tried everything in me to ignore it. Even the first night I said it back, meaning it with nothing less then everything I had in me, not to count the endless nights I had said it knowing you were fast asleep because I needed to gain the courage to tell you. Hearing you ramble about when we were going to live together or how you planned on growing old with me. You knew just what to say. I remember our first fight and how utterly heartbroken I was. I can remember the taste of your lips and sound of you breathing. Your laugh plays on an endless loop in my minds. Your smile flashes before me as I close my eyes. Your voice echoes in my eardrums. I remember everything. Your ridiculous snoring, horrible smoking habit, hopeless look in your eyes. It was a tragic love we shared. But what makes it an even greater tragedy, is that I knew we would never last.

He reminded me of you. I remember his taste, it was just like yours: a perfect mix of hopelessness and pain. His careless demeanor matched yours to a t. His excuses and yours aligned perfectly. The sound of him sleeping mimicked you. I think the only difference between the two was, it wasn't just *** for him. I wasn't just a prize to be won. I wasn't a toy sitting there waiting to be claimed. He saw me as a person, or at least he made it seem like he did. If it was all an act, at least he was a better actor. I deserved better than either of you were willing to give me. He didn't rush me like you did. He at least took the time to spread out the lies, to make them believable. He reminded me of you, and that's just one more example of how I can never escape you.

It's over now.
But something inside me is telling me that it has just begun.

John. David. Issiah. Micheal. Andrew.  

Freshman year you were infatuated with him. You wanted to be whatever it was that he wanted: normal, attractive, popular, hot. You were willing to do anything to get his attention, yet it was never enough. He didn't know what he wanted. He didn't know what you could have given him. You were 15, young and full of hope. But you were never going to be what he wanted, and you knew that in your heart. You simply liked the way he made you feel in those few precious moments when his attention was focused on you. You loved him, maybe you still do. But you and I both know you'll never get to show him how much.

Sophomore year you found a distraction. You came to grips with the idea of never being his. At first getting involved with David didn't strike much enthusiasm, but as time went on he took up all of your time. You were so bitter towards him that you wasted precious time that could have been spent with him. You were too obsessed with a boy who was using you as a rebound, and couldn't realize that the time you had with John was slipping through your grasp. He left. He moved 1,493 miles away from you. He said he'd write, he said he'd call. You know now that he has forgotten all about you. Still I'm jealous of the people who flood his thoughts and get to simply enjoy his company. His energy was contagious. His smile was addicting. He promised he'd never forget but he did. It was devastating. Heartbreaking. So you used David as an even bigger distraction, until he too disappeared. And then once again, you were left alone.

At the start of junior year the depression got worse. Everything was hitting you all at once. It started to sink in that he was gone. You thought that one day everything would come together for the two of you, and suddenly he was just gone. Isaiah helped distract you a bit. He was always there to make you smile, but he wasn't John. Toward the end of the year someone new came along. Everything with him was so.. Easy. He made you laugh, made you feel wanted, made you feel worth something. He promised that "no matter what happened he'd always be there." It's ironic isn't it? How they can say words with such power and emotion like that and then leave. How promises mean so little. Michael never really explained it. One day he just woke up and "lost feelings". And once again all you could feel was worthless. He was wasting your time. He just wouldn't admit it.

Senior year was a wild one. Before it even started Issiag was admitting his "love" for you. He talked about going to school with you. Dating you. Growing old with you. Loving you. Making memories with you. When in reality I think he was using you to fill a spot that she couldn't. He'll always go back to her. Issiah and Lauren were meant for each other. You've known him for almost four years now and suddenly he just decided to disappear on you. You thought you were the best friends that he proclaimed you to be. You weren't all that he made you out to be. You were a distraction. A happy place. A drunk call. When Andrew came around saying all the right things it was refreshing. He sounded sincere. Then again, they all did. It felt right, it felt scary, it felt new. He seemed too good to be true, and he was. I'm sure part of me just wanted to believe him. Believe that I could be wanted in the capacity he proclaimed I was. He said all those things. "I love you", "I could never hurt you", "I want to have children with you", "let's buy a house", "hurting you would be hurting me". It wasn't what he said, every word he rolled  off of his lips effortlessly and without flaw. It's what he did. It's the moments when you weren't looking. The exhaustion and stress that set in because of the double life that he led. The guilt and pride which overcame his face. He thought he got away with it. I know the truth. I know what it was about for him. I know what he did. Even now, 7 months later he won't admit to it. But it's okay. I know. After he left all I could think about was John. He started the patterns of goodbye. All I could think about was what he would do if and when he found out what I had done. I felt worthless because now, more than ever, I knew I would never be what he deserved.

It's that unsaid goodbye. The one which comes like a thief in the dark of the night. There's no warning, no time for questions, no room for error. One day they are there and they love you and the next.. They're gone. The person you knew and were so fond of has disappeared into the night. I think that for a long time they're just working up the courage to tell you that you aren't what they want, but they don't know how because you're both already so invested in one another. So they cut it short, cut deep, cut to the point. You aren't what they wanted. You'll never be what they wanted. I think that's what ***** me up the most.

All of them made me feel worthless. They continued to send the message that I was never good enough for them, it wasn't until Andrew showed me that perhaps I was too good for all of them. I don't deserve to be a convince. I don't deserve to be an object. I don't deserve to be a drunk call. I don't deserve to be a distraction. I deserve to be so much more.

High school is more than just nouns and arithmetic. It's more than staying up all night to finish a paper or to read a book. The last four years have taught me so much more than just how to solve an quadratic equation or how to find the mass of a star. I've learned to dream wildly and love fearlessly. Life is scary. Love is a fine line. Walk across it slowly and with caution, but don't be afraid to fall. High school is about making connections that will last a lifetime. It's about memories. How people made you feel. It's been a rough, wild, long, sad, joyous four years filled with many many critical events. But it is four years that will never ever be forgotten.

It burned, but the sting of the ***** burning her throat felt better than the burning realization that she meant nothing to the boy she loved.

Nostalgia kicked in. She wanted to feel wanted. So for the night, she drunkenly cling to the closest person to her. Hoping, praying, longing that for the night she could feel again. Love, lust, hope, faith: anything.

She knew she didn't want to, but she forced herself to anyway.
She knew he was no different, but she let his spineless words spark a hope.
She knew the feeling wouldn't last, but she closed her eyes and relieved the memories it resurfaced.
She knew it wasn't love, but she uttered the words right back to him, regardless.

In his arms, she lay. His voice formed words for hours, but she wasn't quite sure of what he was saying. She laughed when it felt right, but as of then, nothing felt right.

The sun began to peak through the shade, and the girl was unaware of with whom she lay. The memories of his name and his touch, his voice had left with the night.

Quietly she rose quietly out of bed, hoping not to wake him so he couldn't **** anymore with her head.

She stumbled to get dressed and drowsily he spoke "where you going babe" and silently she shuddered.

She uttered words that could be understood and abruptly ran out of the house. She left everything she could trying to escape the confrontation.
Instead she was confronted with her loneliness and deep dark depression.