It's not that i didn't know what i was doing, It's that i didn't care. I don't miss summer, I like having to catch my breathe again when i leave the house. I don't miss sleeping beside someone, They interrupt my dreams. I don't miss pushing, Cause it's easy with little to no attachments. It's these weird moods and these fucking nightmares. I understand these choices aren't easy, but shit some one's gotta make them. Im glad it's you not me. My dreams, My dreammmssss. I keep dreaming the most disturbing things. I slipped, I fell. Blood pooled around my face and matted my hair. Numb Limbs. Film over my eyes. The angle changed, And i focused in for almost long enough-- Then i awoke safe in my bed. 7am. Snooze. 730. Fuck. Holding a knife in your left, Hovering over my extremely beaten body. Wake up with out a cut. With out a bruise. Just a cold sweat, Short of breathe and a sharp pain in my head. I get so strange in the winter months. I taste it in the back of my throat like it's still real. I made so many mistakes, no-- Not mistakes, Jut poor alcohol fueled decisions. Got in to some trouble, Again and again and again. Every time i listen to Wagon Wheel, No matter who is singing it, I could cry. Actually i could cry at alot of things. Like the fact that the things i thought mattered don't, And the things i avoided are more real then anything im going to do in my 19 year old girl life. Like living at home. Like working at not socializing. Like my lack of self control threw out the summer. Im okay as long as i don't think too much. And don't talk to very many people very often. Im going to delete my facbook... maybe.. Probably not.
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“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.”