this year's love

the most frustrating feeling, is when the thing you hate most, is the thing that is keeping you alive. fall reminds me of this feeling. sometimes, when i have time, which isn't often, i stare at the trees with their newly brightened leaves. because i live in oklahoma, it is always windy. always. and sometimes when i watch those leaves, still hanging onto their branches by their thin, brittle stems, i get this deep feeling that they want to fly. they don't want to be held back anymore. they have changed from their infant green stage-grown up, learned, transformed themselves-and they want to fly with it. but how do you fly without your roots nurturing you, feeding you? and then they're discouraged because they can see all those other leaves on the ground, being stepped on and being crushed, and see the results of an attempt flight that failed. and there are so many. and they didn't get very far at all. and what if it isn't worth it? i'm not really talking about tr

its weird when things hit you, but they have to hit you. no one will tell me what my rock bottom is, or what hill im climbing next, or what my view from the top will look like if i make it that high. i have a hundred people telling me that i destroy my own life, that it really is my fault, and although i don't act like it, i am actually aware of this. and i actually do love this. because i think its good to not want things. i think its good to be sad a lot, and darker than others, because when i live, i will know how to live. i will know how wonderful it is. and for that, you might become jealous. when we're older. and we're living.

"It's 3AM, I must be lonely..." I am not the type of person to force a relationship with anybody, whether it be friendship or otherwise. I think that forcing friendship contradicts the definition of it. You should want to hang out, be there for them, and just see them in general. And if you don't feel that way, it's not friendship. Period. If you force those feelings, it only makes you resent that person, consciously or unconsciously. I've had 5 best friends throughout my life. All different girls, all different times. Each one managed to hurt me in a new and fresh way. After number four, I decided to give up on "best friends." I'm not good at it. I didn't know if I was a shitty best friend, or if I picked shitty best friends. Or maybe a combination. The only thing different this time is that I know I didn't pick a shitty best friend. I know it's me this time. So maybe I changed too much, or maybe you grew out of me. Maybe. Maybe you

i am tired of being your rebound. his rebound. everybody's rebound. to you, and him: that's awesome, thank you for not talking to me for 3 months and suddenly being nice. i thought you were nice, but turns out, your girlfriend just doesnt want you. thank you. and the thing that gets me, is that i HATE being your rebound, but i don't ever tell you to stop. ever. because i keep hoping that this will be the time thats different. you've changed. you're not the boy who just wants me because he can. and then it hits me, you are still that boy. you didn't change. you probably never will, but i'll keep giving you chances, because thats what i do. that's what rebounds are for. and i am damn good at it. i just want someone to think i'm worth more. please change.

"Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life...You give them a piece of you. They didn't ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like 'maybe we should be just friends' turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love.” the only thing i can always write about is love. probably because i hav

i will always try to be strong. i will always try to love myself as much as i love others. i will always try to believe in what feels right, rather than what they say is right. i will always try to listen to my head before my heart. i will always try to forget what hurts me. i will always try to avoid the bad things. i will always try to go out of my way to brighten someone's day, especially if they are a stranger. i will always try to have realistic dreams. i will always try to give at least 90%. i will always try to hide the sadness and show the joy. i will always try to be a good daughter, friend, sister, and girlfriend in the best way i know how. i will always try to impress. i will always try to remember what has made me who i am. i will always try to make good decisions. i will always try to love my life. i've learned everything i know the hard way. i've learned not to give away what you can't replace. i've learned to hold secrets close, because in the end, th

the only thing i'm scared of is not letting myself find something better. 

i have been on summer vacation for about a week, and i have been sober a whopping total of 2 nights. and i remembered why i like being "twisted." and i remembered why its important to laugh when you're sad. and i remembered why i understand the fact that my dad is always drunk. but mostly, i remembered to forget, and that was the most important thing. and i felt like i would be okay, which is ironic, because i never felt okay the next morning. one of my favorite feelings in the entire world is sitting by that stupid field, letting the humid wind twirl my hair around my face. drunk or sober (but mostly drunk), it is the closest thing i know to freedom. and although i realize how small and simple that sounds, i think that's what makes me love it so much. it reminds me that i'm alive, and that i'm can breathe. losing our war didn't make me stop breathing. drinking makes me love myself. smoking makes me apathetic. both make me quiet, and both make me smile. wh

you got to my heart, and i will never admit this to you in person, or over the phone, or in a letter. but you did. congratulations. i hate you for that sole reason, and i hate myself for the same thing. you are the only thing that can stress me out and make me cry more than my family, school, and friends. congratulations. you're at the top of the list. all that, and we never speak, or write, or call each other. we haven't for 2 months. and i think you should know that i am still crying over you. and i am still reeling in pain, and i am still the same girl who can hide those two things unbelievably well. lucky me. the fact that i'm the one who officially ended it means nothing. you ended it when you let her have you. you ended it when you lied about it. you ended it when you told me what had really been going on in texas, and why you started distancing yourself more than you  had previously done. you ended it when you let another girl, with my name, have you. you ended it wh

i hate math. why?  it's right or wrong.  it's black or white.  it always comes out with the same answer. it's consistent.   i am right AND wrong, at the same time.  i am always gray.   my answers are based on my moods.  i am not consistent.  and boys. what the fuck is up with boys? what the fuck is up with me and always ending up with the boys who hurt me, while the other boys, THE NICE BOYS, sit on the sidelines and try to convince me to leave boy #1 and be with them, because they will treat me better. i know they will treat me better , but that's half the fun i have in relationships, is knowing that i could do better. i like the bad boys, and it frustrates the fuck out of me. i'm not changing, though. not even for you. not even because you're going into the army in 6 months. nope. not even that. and SCHOOL. FUCK school. who the fuck needs to know how to derive cosine and cosecant from the pythagorean theorem? WHO USES THAT, EVER? nobody, that is exactly who u