12 December 2011


i could tell you what you want to hear. "i'm fine, just tired" or "i'll be okay once i rest" or "it's just the weather getting me down". but it wouldn't be true.
it hurts to try and care, let alone actually do it. you just get hurt, so why do it? that's all that ever happens to me. i open my heart, care, let someone else in....and a week later, a month, maybe even a few months later it's all gone and i'm left with the hurt. the crushing loneliness and the sleepless nights spent crying until i feel like i could never cry again.
i'm sorry i've hurt you in all my confusing ways. my brother who does nothing but help. the one guy that tried and tried. my twin. my best friend. others that i probably do not even know.
every day, i feel like i've gone bipolar or something. half the time i have no idea where i stand, the other half all i want to do is curl up in a ball on my bed and cry until sleep takes over for my exhausted body.

02 October 2011

should you need it....

Hotline: 1-630-482-9696
Suicide Hotline: 1-800-784-8433
LifeLine: 1-800-273-8255
Trevor Project: 1-866-488-7386
Sexuality Support: 1-800-246-7743
Eating Disorders Hotline: 1-847-831-3438
Rape and Sexual Assault: 1-800-656-4673
Grief Support: 1-650-321-5272
Runaway: 1-800-843-5200, 1-800-843-5678, 1-800-621-4000
Exhale: After Abortion Hotline/Pro-Voice: 1-866-4394253
For any problem (for teens): 1-877-968-8454

01 July 2011

one day…

One day, I will find him.

He will be dark haired, and have blue eyes, and a charming (and disarming) smile. He’ll catch me off-guard. Maybe he’ll be 
in one of my classes, or work with me, or bump into me at the mall and offer to buy coffee.

We’ll become friends. And I’ll slowly introduce him to everyone I care about, starting with those that are like family and working my way to the actual one. He’ll have to be approved by Eric and Alex (for even if we dated before, he still knows me very well), and will hopefully become friends with them. Then he’ll meet TJ, and Bren, and Audra, and Jess. And my 
family. My family will love him, by the way. 

He’ll understand my clingy nature, and not be annoyed if I call him 3+ times if he doesn’t answer. He will be spontaneous and romantic and take me on old-fashioned dates and to the bookstore for a whole day. He’ll understand when I cry during movies, and argue about Harry Potter with me. He’ll be as well-versed in books as I am, and love cheesy Disney 
movies and understand that Nutella makes everything better.

He’ll go shopping with me and not get annoyed - just tell me I’m beautiful in all the dresses I try on. We’ll spend days just 
lying in the grass, watching the clouds, and talking. 

He won’t disappear and leave me lonely. If he can’t get to me, or knows he won’t be able to call later, he’ll do it earlier and 
let me know. And he won’t cancel dates unless it’s terribly important, and he’ll never make up excuses.

He’ll get along with my friends, and his will like me too. And if they don’t and say something terrible about me, he’ll 
actually stand up for me. He’ll show them that I’m important too. 

He’ll love me.

27 June 2011

what am i s'posed to do, when the best part of me was always you?

It shouldn’t be this much to ask. To have you call me back, or at least not make it so I end up calling you three or more times before I give up. To not have to feel hopeless and helpless and generally just lost in every sense of the word.
I’m simple. I really, truly am. I like to know I can rely on you, especially on such simple a thing as calling me back.
I feel like I’m just something on the side for you. There when it’s convenient and when you want it, but when you don’t…well, then you just simply don’t. Then you simply just don’t answer the phone, don’t message me back, don’t do anything.
This is why I hate the distance. It would be one thing if I could come see you more, if there were more things we could do. But with a 25 mile distance (though not grand, admittedly) there is less and less I’m finding. Rides are trouble enough – neither set of parents wants even a weekly drive either way, much less both. It’s a hassle, and I understand that. But that shouldn’t be what keeps you away, should it?
All I seem to know is that, lately, all I do is hurt. I’m granted brief reprieve when you decide to answer your phone, or actually follow through with plans (which you always seem to have some flimsy excuse to have to cancel on me for).
I love you, but I do not love this.
And it kills me how much it hurts sometimes.

13 June 2011

will you let me stay a while?

I wish you could see yourself the way I do. All the planes and angles and curves of your face, your arms, your chest. All those places I have grown to know so fondly.

I wish you could look through my eyes, through my soul, see and feel all that I do. Maybe then you could understand. Maybe then you would be gentler on my heart.

03 June 2011

it's getting harder to believe in anything

I just don't know what to do. I'm sick and tired of getting left behind, of only being there when it's convienant, of getting left behind to sit in the hallway by myself.

I went to Alex's seminar to see him, to work on each others' stuff and spend the second to last seminar ever with him. But no. No, 7 minutes into it, he gets pulled off to practice. The guy could have told him last night, but he didn't, so I got to sit in the hallway by myself and look like a complete and utter loser.

I'm sick of it.

I'm always left behind, I'm always the second choice, I'm always the last one picked. But, hey, if you have some huge problem, guess who's the first person you come to, whether you know me that well or not.

I hate this. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it.

18 May 2011


Today started off so well, then went downhill so fast. Woke up early, got to get some Mickey D’s for breakfast, got to school early and had time to relax (if I get there too late, it stresses me out >.<)….

Then Alex flipped because he forgot a paper for Physics. 

Calmed him down, went to TA and got a terrible scene where my character has a dead 4 year old. Got to math, and we had fun because it was a blow off class today (our teacher realizes that none of us care anymore).

Fast forward to lunch.

He found out his Econ teacher lost his papers. I believe it - he did the same to me last semester. But what does he do? He depresses out, lies down and takes it, and gets in the worst mood ever. And takes it out on me.

 I know he didn’t mean too, that he’s just not a person you want to be around when he’s upset, but still. It’s not my fault!

And now? Now our big 6 month date is cancelled because he is “grounded until further notice”.

I hate everything

08 April 2011

the voicemail letter

I am a writer. A dreamer. A reader, most importantly. I am the “poor, mad girl back home”. I am a hopeless romantic, a doer, a mediocre photographer, addicted to Diet Mountain Dew and mini Cadbury eggs and clumsy and listen to bad music and love Disney movies. I triple knot my shoe laces and they still come undone by the end of the day. I’m a girl that, instead of stuffed animals, has books crowded on her bed (oh, the times I’ve woken up with words imprinted on my skin!). I have devoured many a book in one day, in hours, refusing sleep until the last page so I might be satisfied.
My blood flows ink and words, colorful allusions and metaphors; and every thought is as a book. I map out conversations such as dialoge and try to figure out the plot of everyone’s lives so that I might one day learn the plot of my own (although I suspect you have some to do with it).
            We are reading the story of our lives
            As though we were in it
            As though we had written it
                                                ~ Mark Strand

I am a collector of vague words and lost phrases and people’s quirks. ‘Pulvis et umbra sumus’ – we are but dust and shadows. Sleep-warm. ‘I was dying of wanting’. Tá mo chroí instigh intí. “And from death I return with words.” I speak in some loose collection of words, phrases, thoughts stolen from others. One minute I am Clary Fray, another Lizzie Bennett, another Gemma Doyle, Hermione Granger, Rose Hathaway, Kaye Fierch, Katniss Everdeen, Almathia. I am broken verses strung into a symphony of sound. I am quotes and stars and momentos and books. Oh, how I am books!

I am a girl, a thing usually deemed fragile though I try not to be. But I am, and it’s simply terrible at times. I am strong for others, weak for myself. A caregiver of sorts, latching onto the unfortunate and the needy and the lost.

And then there is you.

You, with your music and guitars and jazz and your smile. That smile, that I love. When it pops out after something particularly clever (or stupid) I’ve said, when I can feel it when you’re kissing me, when it’s so automatic that one side quirks up before the other and the smile starts in your eyes before it hits your mouth.

How your music is everything, and there’s a song for every moment. Is there one for me, I wonder? I should hope not, but I do, darling, I do. How the range of your music is everything I could hope for in mine.

The fact you’re just as comfortable in a plain shirt as a sweater vest (though, no offense to them, but when you’ve taken them off and are down to just the button-down and roll the sleeves up I swoon) and are just so you in everything you do.

Everything you’ve dreamed up for us and how it makes me not want to live in my books anymore. Makes me want to live, with you. To just simply be, together, as two halves of a whole.

Or a hole, one we’ve dug together that could be scary but instead is comfortable and quaint and pretty perfect.

How I can read any book, pretend to be anyone and fall in love through words time and time again (often with the same characters) and every single time it is nothing compared to you. To how you love me.

And maybe it’s not how I feel about you – it’s how I don’t feel anything close to this for anyone else. Maybe it’s how I can never pin down exactly what shade of blue your eyes are or how I can’t explain how I feel about you without grinning like a schoolgirl. Or how I can listen to any love song and relate it back to us. How I have been writing til my hand hurts to try and convey to you the depth of my affection.

How I worry about giving you this, simply because I overthink everything for fear of screwing this – of screwing us – up.

How you are not Mr. Darcy or Peeta or Kartik or Dimitri Belikov, JAce Morgenstern, Ron Weasley, The Great Wizard Schmendrick, Roiben Rath Raye but at the same you’re so much more. You are every good part of every book, movie and song that I was already in love with, some from childhood. Truly.

How I could write tens of hundreds of things, compose sonnets, write novels, compose music or stand under your window with a boombox like those 80’s movies (though with my luck, you’d choose that night to sleep in the basement) and it wouldn’t be enough.

            “Time together is just never quite enough.”
            “When you and I are alone, I’ve never felt so at home.”
            “So tell me darling, do you wish we’d fall in love?”
            “All the time, all the time”
                                                            ~Saltwater Room, Owl City

You, with your jokes I don’t get and your coffee and every little thing about you. Blue and green. Your scarf. Chase. You want to do graphic design. You want to get out of this place as much as I do.

You, with your soothing words and just-right comments. How you can be talking to someone else and yet tracing circles on me and I melt. You with your games and friends and secret place I don’t know how to find yet (I can’t wait to, one day). How I want to one day understand you, all of you, how I understand myself. Maybe more. How you say things and I believe you, and it scares the living hell out of me most of the time because everyone has left me at some point for some reason and I’ve learned to not trust. But you, you, oh you make me trust you with every word of the future you offer me – and I take, quite greedily. 

03 April 2011

alex: so there’s this absolutely gorgeous girl in my class. ive been in love with her since, like, 7th grade
me: wow
alex: she means near the world to me. she always has. sometime i don’t really know if she knows that, to be honest
me: well, maybe she’s one of those annoying people who always need to be told stuff like that. one of those insecure girls, who can’t believe how lucky she is.
alex: well i’ll gladly keep telling her. and she’s not lucky - she deserves it. every bit of it
me: how so?
alex: she’s fantastic in every way. everything she does is great. she’s worked hard in everything ive known of - she deserves someone who will give her the kind of attention 

dear alex

I love you because you say things like ‘wacky’. And like waffles with PB or Nutella. Because you know how to make me feel special and beautiful, which is a really hard thing. Because you do crazy things like saying 
you: yeah, really :) hell, for all i know i might love you or some crazy shit like that ♥
me: woah woah woah man. that there are so heavy words. you sure you mean them? ;)
you: if i said yes would you hold it against me? :)
just because you know it’ll make my night while you’re at work and we can’t really talk. And it did. 
I love you for you and how amazing you are. How you are sweet and kinda and good and it’s all like a fairytale. One five years in the making, and it’s like good wine - it got better over the years. 
I love that you are my best friend and my boyfriend. That I can trust you with all the crazy going on in my life and know you’ll still be there for me no matter what. I love that you’re you and I’m me and we’re together. Finally. At last. After all the stubbornness and “No, not going to” and generally just being dumb (all three on my part, since you were always the smart one)
I love that you let me steal your hoodies and don’t complain when, a week later, I want a different one because the one I have doesn’t smell like you anymore. I love when you’re playing your guitar, when you’re singing (you’re going to make it into Varsity Voices, I know it), when you’re cracking jokes. When you squeeze my hand and look into my eyes and all I can see in them is love. 
I love that you love me, and make me want to be more. That you listen to me rant or make up silly plans and just go along with it. That you protect me for little things (like certain people we know) and don’t even question why I don’t like being around them. How you are gallant and noble and amazing. Like my own personal knight out of a storybook.
How you’re persistent, and convinced you’re going to win me a Kindle. How you make me believe you about that, even if I do think you’re being ridiculous.
I love how you’ve made me secure and grounded and made me realize that you really do love me and I need to shut up about being all insecure about it. I love that you love my weird, random little notes I write you at the end of the day with whatever’s on my mind. Or doodle really weird, crappy pictures.
How you understand me at my oddest. Like my “we need different levels of love” rant I went on the other day. How you will give up seeing the movie you want to see to go see the (terrible) one I want to.
But mostly? Mostly I just love you for everything that you are. 
I just love you, Alex. 
Plain and simple. 
Forever and always.

"they get together in the end, don't they?"

01 March 2011


so, we were in college, probably, mid or at the end. idk where we were, i think somewhere around dave and mike because we were cleaning our apartment and they were coming over for dinner or something. and we were like “gah, we have to clean up,” but neither of us wanted to get out of bed because we were snuggling and all happy and still half asleep. 
so i said “well, i’ll go make french toast or something” as an incentive to get you up.
it didn’t work. i tried to get up and you just pulled me back down around my waist and buried your head in my shoulder, kissing my neck. “no, not gonna happen.”
and i fake grumbled about it, because i didn’t want to get up anyhow, and we just laid there for a few minutes.
“i like this,” you said. 
“i know, me too.”
“no, i really do.”
“i know”
but you kissed me and kept telling me i didn’t understand and how everything was just amazing and cool and great.

county fair

i don't know where or when this would be, because to my knowledge we don't have these sort of things around here, so maybe we were down south visiting my family or something?

but we were at a county fair. you know, all the old-school carnival rides and stuff? cotton candy and giant slides and horse-churned ice cream ♥ those crazy mirror mazes and the huge spaceship things? gravitrons? i love those. i rode one when i was littler about seven times in a row and wasn't even dizzy when i got off.

so, we went on all the rides, and you convinced me to go on the ferris wheel so you could kiss me at the top, even though i'm deathly afraid of heights. and we did it, and i was scared, but you held me and kept whispering that it would be fine because you were there. because you would always be there. and the sun was setting and it was beautiful and i looked into your eyes and told you how much i love you and how i always would. 

we got off, finally, and went to go through the mirror maze. i got scared inside it (don't like being enclosed in small spaces) and kept thinking i saw you but it was a reflection of your reflection. finally, you ended up sneaking up on me because i started ignoring the mirrors and trying to get out. and you just held me and we laughed because i was freaking out.

18 February 2011

move along, nothing to see here but angst

I hate that I feel like you’re lying to me.
Why? Why do I think that or why do I hate it? 
I think it because…well, it’s rather simple. You have so much homework you’re going to be “chained to the wall”? Okay, well, you got the homework on Thursday/Friday and have until Tuesday/Wednesday to get it done and turned in.That’s 4 days. How much homework could you possibly have to need to take that long? And if you really have that much work, then why the hell are you going out with your friends tonight? Especially because the three of you will get no sleep, playing MTG and whatever else until 5 in the morning. That eliminates like all of Saturday for you to work, because you’ll be so dead and tired.
And, no offense, but you’re not in a single Honors or AP class. The work load for those are intense, and I’m in 2 with not a lot of homework. Working on one paper, and one performance. That’s all I have. But even if I had a lot, it wouldn’t stop me. Not so much that I’d have to give up time with you. I’d cram it all in, work into the night, if it meant seeing you.
I’m so insecure and scared, and you say you know that but you don’t seem to care. Because if you did, you would have realized that you told me it wasn’t gonna happen this week, and I sat at my computer and sobbed.
This has happened to me before, babe. 
The gradual release. Letting go slowly to “make it hurt less”.
It hurts more. Like a band-aid. If you rip it off fast, it at least hurts for less time. 
I’m in no means thinking this is an end. I’m just worried. It’s what I do.

16 February 2011

It started, as things like this do, with a kiss.

Not one that set off fireworks, nothing really of not to any onlookers. No, it was a near-kiss, placed clumsily on the side of her mouth.

The last day of 7th grade, the taste of freedom on the tip of her tongue.

That was the beginning. But it was also an end. See, she wasn’t that smart then, so she made a mistake and called it off.

Now, the montage of the next 3 years or so. The brief encounters, the sometimes rekindled crush every once and a while, the ever shrinking gap between their groups of friends.

Now, the fall of their junior year. She’s got that crush bug again, and it’s staying longer than ever before.

Enough that other people are noticing. In fact, her best friend blabs to him before she even knows how to tell him herself.

It’s amazing.

12 February 2011

well, does she want me to make it now?

So, today

  • Bought my prom dress
  • Got lace tights
  • Finished The Boy's Valentines present
  • ....found out said the Boy's grade suck, so he's not allowed out on Monday.

I am excited about prom and everything, but...Monday was supposed to be kinda a Big Deal. And now it's not even a Small Deal. In fact, it's practically a Non-Existent Deal.

I only get to see him at school that day.

Sucks :(

02 February 2011

The Vespertine

Another contest, screamers. This time, I could win $300 for a prom dress - I've already got my eye on one that I've been wishing for.
Wish me luck!!

14 January 2011


So, seeing as I'm a reading fanatic, I decided to sit down and read Tantalize and Eternal by Miss Cynthia Leitich Smith

To put it lightly, they ROCK. 

And now, waiting ever so patiently (read: not at all, actually) for the arrival of the next book, Blessed, I spied this giveaway.

Needless to say, I need this. A Sanguini's menu wipe board? Postcards? Buttons?! What more could a girl want, right?

12 January 2011

lost and found

“You’re beautiful” and I’ve lost myself. I am nothing but those words, nothing more than these complex feelings you’ve brought to me, packaged into two small words.

And then another three: “I love you.”

You have found me.

07 January 2011


She danced on the fringes of moonlight, stars twinkling in her hands. The moon sat atop her head in a Milky Way diadem, night sky clouds drifting through her eyes.

He stood at the edge of daylight, molten lava flowing around him. Mountains formed behind him, lions stood beside him, sunlight shone from his eyes.

Their hands, lips, bodies met in the dusk. In that time when the world is neither day nor night. Neither hers, nor his.

And to this day, those that looked to the sky swore they saw fireworks.