It’s times like this when I miss you.
When I know you are the only one who understands the anger that will soon turn to tears.
When the laughter of friends has faded.
When my friends sleep peacefully-
And I just sit and stare.
Still so ******* confused as to how badly we ****** up.
Trying to comprehend the end.
Knowing you could solve this all for me-
With just a smile.
Yea..I miss you at moments like this.

I let you break me

If you believe in the "capital G" God-
good for you.
If you believe in God(s) plural-
good for you.
If you believe God correlates to the flying Santa in the sky-
good for you.
Believe in whatever you want to.
That is your right as a human being.

But do not- I repeat-
DO NOT!-
Think that because you have a belief system,
it makes you better than those who don't.
You are not any smarter-
or held at a higher standard than those who chose not to believe.
If you can choose to believe, they can choose to disbelieve.

I finally understand why you aggravate me so.

You call all the shots-

I lack control.

I don’t have control over the situation-

and although it interests me-

it frightens me more.

I used to have to light up
to help our memories go up in smoke.
Inhale and exhale until I could calm down and see straight.
Even if that meant I went through half a pack.

Now, in my worst moments- he calls.
Unknowing of the savior he has become.
It has become second nature-
to accept the end-
without a cigarette
mostly because it is hard to smoke when I'm too busy laughing.

Everyone says when you find the one
you'll know. The world will spin,
birds will chirp, and a chorus will sing.
Every wrong in your life will become right.

I think it's a bit more like this.
Your world gets set on fire.
That person infuriates you,
but like a car crash-
you can't look away.

Sure with them,
the world is sunshine and rainbows and kittens-
that's the honeymoon phase-
it will fade.

Next comes real love.
The arguing, the screaming, the sleepless nights-
but don't worry you'll make up.
This time,
and maybe the next time too-
if you're lucky.

Then comes the end.
The defeat- the "just leave"-
or "I can't do this anymore"
The aching hole- tear stained pillows-
wondering what in the world happened.
"where did I go wrong?"

But don't worry-
just as love fades,
it will one day begin again.
Take your time-grieve if needed,
just keep your heart open.

I tend to run when I am not reassured that people want me to stay. Normally this isn’t an issue with us- you were always there as a reminder that I was loved and needed just the way I was. But the situation has changed, you remind her of this fact first and me secondly- if you get around to it- and lately you’ve been forgetting. So I feel that it is time to jump ship, and I’m terrified that this time you won’t even notice me fleeing through the exit.

I've been out of therapy for over 2 years.
As far as my parents are concerned-
my self hatred was just a blimp.
A spot in my seemingly perfect high school career.
I pulled over a 4.0 so I must be okay.
She got a boyfriend.
She got healthy.
She must love herself now.
Little do they know-
my pulse still quickens at the mere thought,
of tearing into my own flesh.
My body pumps with adrenaline if I don't automatically push the idea away.
Sorry mom.
Sorry dad.
I'm not really all that better.
Just better at lying.

There is not enough ***** in the world
to help me forget the feeling of your skin on mine.
The burn in my throat is nothing
compared to the sting in my heart.
The innocent kisses,
are the ones that hurt the worst.

And it’s true some days I still can’t breathe when I think about you.
I’m filled with envy that she is the object of your affection.
I see red, and my throat constricts.
But then I remember,
you are only one person.
One love.
There will be others.
It’s not the end of the world, even if it feels like it some days."

You would take back everything you said last night-
once the alcohol was out of your system.
Perhaps you shouldn't get drunk-
Around your new love.
I'd hate for you to say my name-
Instead of hers.

I am not indecisive,
I am cautious.
I am not anti- social,
I am selective.
I am not rude,
I am blunt.
I am not a *****,
I am healing.

the fact your birthday happens to be on the day of love is no coincidence
it wasn’t a mistake, it was fate.
A sign to the whole world how much love you were capable of giving out.
An outward sign to look a little deeper,
to show the world the outside view of you was just the tip of the iceberg
with more depth than the ocean and more facets than the worlds most expensive diamond
but like the ocean and a “girls best friend” you were scary and cruel at times.
Some days you were so cold you stole the breath from my lungs
and other days you brought the color to my cheeks.
Being born on the day of love must have given you the power to give and take away love in the blink of an eye.

Liar liar I wish you'd catch fire.

Beautiful. That’s what they say.
But there is nothing beautiful about me.
I am not to be put on a shelf and admired.
I am not some fragile, stain-glass window.
I am my scars. I am the sleepless nights.
I am the suicidal thoughts at one am.
But I am also that voice that says “No live”
I learn from my mistakes.
I have earned my tiger strips.
I am a steel core of absolution.
Calling me simply beautiful, would be an insult.

We are always planning for it-
yearning for it.
Saying things will be better-
in the future,
but what is the future, really?
The next day? The next moment?
The future is what we make of it.
Stop waiting for tomorrow-
for it may never come.
Live your life <3

It doesn't hurt any more.
I don't see your face when I wake up.
I don't crave your arms at 2:21 am-
when I can't sleep.
I don't close my sleepy eyes and,
wonder where you are.

I'm happy for you-
and the love you have found.
Isn't that when you know that it's over-
and you've moved on?
When you can be genuinely happy for someone.

I hope you are happy for me too.
I'd hate for us to get stuck in the same old loop.
The cycle of us wanting what we can't have.
Be happy for me and I'll stay happy for you.

Head: (bold)
Heart: (Italics)

He's moved on.
He doesn't mean that.
Hell I've moved on.
He is your sun and stars
It wasn't working.
He makes you happy.
We were fighting
Think of all the good memories.
yelling such hateful things-
The way you felt curled up-in his arms-
things we didn't mean.
safe from the hatred of the world.
He's too immature.
You two can fix this.
The love is gone*

(Can't fix what isn't broken)
Can't change the *past
Yet the battle rages on.

"Fight for the things you want in life."
"Don't be afraid to climb that ladder."
"Don't give up on your dreams."

These are the things I was taught as a kid.

But, none of them prepared me for losing you.

The rules change when it concerns love.

"Stop fighting for someone who isn't there."
"Move on, you are only hurting yourself."
"There are other fish in the sea."

I know all the lines, read all the "get over him quick" books,
but I'm still stuck in the don't give up mentality I was taught as a kid.
I want to run up to you, and whisper "I love you"
I know it won't change a thing,
but I wish it would.

I "moved on".
Dated a great guy who respects me, understands me, cherishes me.
Never lets me go to bed angry, always communicates with me
(something you ****** at)
Yet his love isn't enough.

Maybe first loves never die,
and maybe that's my problem.
Or maybe I'm just a dreamer who never learned to get her head out of the clouds.

Yet again, I find myself here.
Walking into the lion's den.
Unafraid, unarmed.
Fully aware of the consequences.
Putting my life in your hands again.
As fragile as a baby bird,
hoping you'll take me in.
Knowing, all I'm really doing is,
putting my head in the lion's mouth,
and praying he's not hungry today.

There is an urgency in his kisses-
I've never experienced before.
A determination in his smile-
As he pulls me close.
A need I can only describe as longing-
As he wraps his arms around me.
His embrace is a drug and I'm hooked.

Maybe this isn't love.
Maybe it's just a case of dependency,
It may be selfish,
But most adicts are.
Call it what you want,
All I know is your touch is what I need.

I’ve been there.
That point in life when the sun is shining, but to you it might as well be pouring rain.
I’ve gotten to the point where I was holding that blade, ready to watch the water around me turn red.
Done.
Done with the self help books, the friends who mumbled, “it will get better”, with averted eyes, because they don’t know what to do with you anymore.
When the “don’t do this” protests from even your closest friends seemed forced, because honestly, they were done trying to stop you and were getting ready to deal with the hole you would leave when you left.
I’ve watched my friends mourn me while I was still breathing.
When they were planning what to say at my funeral- as I stood next to them, a shell of the person I used to be.
I could have gone through with it, that day with the blade and the bath tub. The water ran high, all I had to do was get in, and make two slashes, but something changed.
I was calm, I was ready, steady in my resolve, but then-
the turn of a lock, a giggle and a “hi” from my little brother.
I was so caught up in my planning, I lost track of time, and I was no longer home alone.
That’s all it took.
Like waking up from a long nap, feeling disorientated and unsure of what day it was.
When people say it’s the little things that save us, they aren’t kidding.
Wait for it. The universe wants you here.
It might not be a sibling, or even another human being, and I know waiting is hard;
but if you hold out, just a little longer- you will find your sign.
The fog will lift, maybe only temporarily, but it will be enough to allow you to fight for one more day.
If you're struggling I ask of you, only one thing.
Wait through one more sunrise, and then do it again.
Take time to notice the sunrise, let the suns rays come through your dark cloud, and notice that the dark clouds and the rain, are no match for the sun.

How odd a feeling,
unrequited love;
it’s a lot like a switch in some respects.
Some days- it’s all butterflies and sunshine,
other days a hurricane of sadness because I’ll never have you.
But lately, the switch has been stuck in the middle,
as I don’t feel giddy and high off love, nor do I feel sad.
I think I’m finally getting to the point where,
if you were to come back, I could love you again,
but your absence does not haunt me anymore

I think that there will be some people you never lose feelings for.
Not completely anyway.
Regardless of the circumstances, that spark remains year after year.
Like one of those candles that reforms from the melted wax.
Always ready to be relight-
just waiting to see if that spark burns bright enough again to warrant a second chance.

Everyone can see I'm still not over you.
I tried to be.
I dated another boy, let him in.
Told him all my secrets and tried to love him.
Yet, every time we fought, my first thought was always,
"you would have understood."

It's been 463 days since we went out separate ways.
You "accidentally" dated a carbon copy of me,
who was less depressed and more confident.

It took us over a year to see be able to be in the same room together.
It wasn't awkward- it was nice.
Until I realized my nails were in palms,
so I didn't touch you.
I felt you radiate heat and wanted nothing more than to curl up in your lap.
So I guess they're right,
I'm not over you.
But it takes two to tango.

It had been over a year since we had even been together the night you called to say I love you.
"I do still love you" became the rhythm my heart pounded to.
I felt light as a feather.
Yet it felt wrong.
And that's when I realized,
I no longer loved you.
I guess life is just
Funny that way.

I once met a boy born on Valentines’ Day.
A boy with love practically built in his veins.
But after 3 years of an on again off again heart wrenching relationship, he told me falling in love with me was the worst decision he had ever made.
As if you choose who you fall in love with.
I once met a boy born near Valentines’ Day.
A boy who was more timid than the one before him in some ways.
A boy who may have not had love blazing through his veins
but a boy who had plenty of love in his heart,
and after 2 years of fighting and making up and fighting and making up, together we still stand. better than ever. closer than ever.
He still tells me loves me every night before we sleep,
and most importantly after 2 years of being together he still tells me that falling in love with me was the best thing that ever happened to him.
Falling in love isn't a choice, but that doesn't make it any less real or magical.

I self harm the way some people play the lotto.
Not every day, or even once a week,
but when I end up on a winning streak
I can't stop.
I keep feeling like one of these days I'll get lucky.

I always said “I’ll be fine”
I was okay, cracked around the edges but okay
Always told myself to smile
someone somewhere has it worse than me
Never acknowledged how broken I was.
Until I truly met the girl who I had given the title
“That ***** that broke and stole my best friend”
She dated him longer than I did, true.
He seemed to trust her as much as he trusted me, true as well.
They broke up… and got back together and broke up..and ect.
When they had broken up for good, I decided to make her acquaintance.
Not out of spite or anger, but to extend the olive branch.
And it was here that I met my worst fears.
I saw a girl so hurt, broken and beaten by the guy I idolized.
And realized, take two years off my age…and I was looking in a mirror.
A ******* ******* mirror.
I convinced myself he hadn't hurt me, broken me or changed me..then I realized he’d done more damage than could be repaired.
I saw this all in another girl who might as well have been me.

A seemingly innocent phrase-
"that'd be an awkward way to meet someone."-
has me transported back in time.
A time of love- and laughter.
Even though I was with you-
all I heard-
saw-
smelt-
felt-
was him.
For the rest of the day I found myself-
comparing the two of you.
Weighing the pros and cons.
Trying to remind myself,
he is the past and you are the present.
****.
Nostalgia is a *****.

I still hope for the best for you even though there is no future for us.
Not anymore, you made your choice, and I made mine.
Still miss you sometimes though- there are a lot of memories here.
Someone will crack an old joke from years ago, or comment on how long my hair has gotten,
(I haven’t cut it since that time you said you liked my short hair)
Here’s to hoping we both find our missing puzzle piece someday soon,
the longer it takes, the more I start to think it’s still you.