Him

If he isn't as into me as I am into him, surely I'm in trouble. I hope he can love someone like me because I'm so grateful to have met him. It's too soon and we are running out of time. But darling, you said you'd come back. And I want to do everything and go everywhere with you, babe. 

Other Revelations

Fuck. What is this life? What will we ever know? We won't. So who's to say what is or what isn't. Who has the privilege of distinguishing truth against fictionalization? We all know know the unanswerable answer, We just all choose to disbelieve it. Yet, it is always there, beneath the surface. It dwells and reminds. It doesn't matter if we had ever had a time of innocence, all that matters is who we are now and what we have become. The future is all we have at the present. It is the invisible strength that renders us vulnerable and compassionate. And without both, we would not nearly be as whole of a person as anybody ever could. But then again, who's to say what's what and who's to say whom's whom.

Mother Of Mine

Lecturing me on how NOT to be bipolar. Nice. (sarcasm intended)

Capabilities

Do you think I may be incapable of love? Possibly. You can't give what you don't have. 

Lust I have, but love? Not sure about that.

Nick

I love him. 

World help me. 

I've fallen, so completely.

Dislikes

I don't like being away from you for too long.

Actually, I hate it.

How am I going to fall asleep without you next to me.

Every Time I Fall In Love

Your Eyes

You look at me the way every woman wants to be looked at. Those dark, serious, and intense eyes that you could swim in. The ones that devour you entirely and see right through you.

They were all right. 

To quote John Green, "We fell in love like we fall asleep. Slowly, then all at once."

Coincidence, your beautiful eyes are hazel colored too. 

Just Be You.

You tell me to just be myself. I am. This crazy little emotional and defensive shit you see in front of you.

You say you're always giving me my way and following my ways.

Fuck.

I've followed you for 21 years of my life.

I'm 25 years old now. It's always about you guys. 

When is it about me. It's never about me. Even if it's my lllness, it's still about me hurting you. 

You had a fucking responsibility for my life because you decided to have me. You had a fucking responsibility to be there for me and actually take care of me. Not to leave me to grow up on my own.

Not to treat me simply as a fucking obligation or accessory to your goddamn "american dream life."

You had a responsibility and chance, many chances, that you foolishly and carelessly squandered. You had that responsibility and you fucked it up. You fucked me up. And it's still not about me, ever. 

Fucking bullshit. I'm done.

Don't speak to me if you intend on leaving. 

Waking up really sucks.