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I notice everything. And by everything, I literally mean everything. I notice when someone stops hitting me up like they used to. I notice when the way someone talks to me starts changing. I notice the little things that people do, and the little things they used to do. I notice when things change, and when it’s no longer the same. I notice every single little detail. I just don’t say anything.

At the end of the day, when it comes down to it, all we really want is to be close to somebody. So this thing, where we all keep our distance and pretend not to care about each other, is usually a load of bull. So we pick and choose who we want to remain close to, and once we’ve chosen those people, we tend to stick close by. No matter how much we hurt them, the people that are still with you at the end of the day - those are the ones worth keeping. And sure, sometimes close can be too close. But sometimes, that invasion of personal space, it can be exactly what you need.

I feel like I’ve tried for so long to be happy, and the more I try, the more that goal slips from my reach. It’s almost like quicksand where the more you struggle, the more submerged you become. I’ve given up on everything. Nothing matters to me anymore. Especially myself. The part of my life that matters least to me is myself. I’m no one, and I always have been.

I think when you’re 16 you don’t expect it to hurt as much as it does but what the fuck would you know about love till it slams into your chest and knocks the wind out of your lungs so you fall in love and he leaves and you stop washing your hair and your skin is bruised with the creases in your sheets and your mother wants to yell at you but your blank stare just makes her eyes tear up and you’re not supposed to see your mother cry and you’ll probably try destroying yourself because that’s what you do when you’re 16 so you’ll pull apart razors and hide them someplace your parents can find them but they never do and you’ll start smoking even though it makes you cough so hard you throw up and you can’t stand the burning in your throat and you’ll run away without ever leaving your bedroom and maybe you’ll kiss too many boys who mean nothing but mean all too much and they will all look a little like him or nothing at all and you let him fuck you up and you leave him drunk voicemails and you haven’t cried in 23 days even though you’re always crying and you promise you will never love anything again because it hurts more than they warned no one told you that this was love and maybe it’s not love maybe it’s more maybe it’s something from another world maybe it’s just your bones breaking again either way it fucking burns and now you’re older and you know to expect to come out the other side missing a few pieces of yourself but sometimes you get caught up and you forgot that it’s supposed to hurt because it’s not supposed to fucking hurt and you blink and you’re bleeding again and it’s like you’re 16 all over again trying to rip yourself to shreds while you try to pick up all the pieces of yourself everyone thinks you’re mysterious because your mouth is sewn shut with the sudden death of past loves but you’re just so fucking quiet because they’ve taken so much out of you, you can hardly open your eyes, forget about your mouth, and I guess the worst part about love dying out is that you don’t die with it, you just attend the funeral and visit the grave every time you’re drunk. you’re always so goddamn drunk.

And all I want is to Get drunk Fall asleep and Not think of you, But you’ve haunted my dreams And inebriated mind Thoughts of you are all I can find.

Never underestimate someones ability to break your heart.

I really can’t picture anyone having a crush on me. I can’t picture someone thinking about me before they fall asleep or telling their friends about me. I can’t picture anyone getting butterflies because I said hi to them or even just smiled at them. I can’t picture someone smiling at the computer screen or their cell phones when we’re talking. I mean like, why would they even do that? I’m just me, nothing extraordinary or special.

Life becomes so much better when you decide not to care. Just live for the moment and don’t let the drama bring you down.

In this story, he leaves me for what he already knows. He stops holding my hand and he opens the door to a house that he thought had burned down in flames and it’s painful to be the one who waits but I wait because maybe it won’t feel like home. Because maybe the walls will be a different color and because maybe it’s not welcoming anymore. Maybe the love isn’t there anymore. And so I wait. I wait outside beneath a tree with broken limbs and I feel sad because all things must come to an end and this is the end. I stand on the outside and he is dancing in the kitchen with her. She is spinning beneath that old light fixture that needs fixing but they’re too engulfed in their happiness to notice the broken things and so they don’t notice me. They don’t notice me and I understand. Familiarity in love feels easier and I’m not angry and I’m a little bit sad but I understand. He’s loved her for quite some time now, he hasn’t ever stopped.

The truth is I still care and I always will. I’m not the type of girl to let people walk out of my life and pretend that they don’t matter anymore. I may not like the person anymore or talk to him or her but I still care. I’m always going to think back to my life and say I wonder what happened to so and so. I hope they’re all right. I will actually mean it. That is the type of person I am. Once you’re in my heart, you’re there forever