Are you talking to her or me, because I just can’t tell.
I can handle scars, especially one’s on the outside.
Even though I knew she wasn’t going to jump, seeing her standing on the ledge made me realize that I want and need her in my life forever. She challenges me, pushes me, and pisses me off, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Maybe if I try hard enough, we’ll fall into each other and become one single person and we can share our pain instead of carrying it by ourselves.
You’re like my favorite song, Nova. The one that I never want to forget. That I want to play over and over again.
I’m conflicted. On one hand, I want to stay in and catch up on The Vampire Diaries, but there’s this really awesome restaurant I’ve been wanting to try out.
But I trusted him once and I decide to do it again. I just pray to God he doesn’t shove me down and break me, because I’m already in too many pieces and I just don’t know how much more breaking I can take.
Death. It’s around more than people realize. Because no one wants to talk about it or hear about it. It’s too sad. Too painful. Too hard. The list of reasons is endless.
You left me, ripped out my heart, and then came back acting like a robot, and you know what? We made it through. You and I, good or bad, belong together. We make each other whole.
I sometimes feel like life is just one big test to see how long we can survive.
I just don’t see the point of talking unless there’s something to say.
I cling to him like he’s what keeps me thriving. Because he is.
I swear love is the most powerful emotion thats ever existed. It owns people, devours them, tears them open and bleeds them out from the inside, making them defenseless to everything. Hate is the same way. Hate takes your levelheadedness and even your sanity away from you.
People are running to and from class and I just want to yell, Slow down and wait for the world to catch up!
He knows what I’m about to say – he always does. He is my best friend, my soul mate. In a perfect world, full of roses and sunshine we’d be together, but this is full of broken.
I often wonder what drives people to do things. Whether it’s put into their minds at birth, or if it is learned as they grow. Maybe it’s even forced upon them by circumstances that are out of their hands. Does anyone have control over their lives or are we all helpless?
The vertical lines that run down his forearms are the most disturbing, thick and jagged as if someone took a razor to his skin. I wish I could run my fingers along them and remove the pain and memories that are attached to them.
I’ve missed you, Ella May.
Come with me somewhere. Please. I’ve been waiting eight months to talk to you.
I’ve never walked home wearing just a pink robe and a pair of slippers.