apparently you can't love me. i've turned into someone new that is impossible for you to love. i've turned from the girl who solves her depression with tears and razors to the girl that drinks her problems away. i'm sorry. i'm sorry that i chose to stop ripping apart my skin. i'm sorry that i've decided to be so "different". i'm sorry that you can't love me. i won't ever be able to understand, though. i'm still the same insecure girl with brown hair and brown eyes. the girl who will sing country with you even though we're both tone deaf and we sound horrendous. you think i'm so different, but i'm not. i'm really not. but that's okay. i can move on. actually, i had already started before we got to the situation we're at. he loves me. he loves the shy girl that sings when she drinks, or when she's comfortable with where she's at. he loves the girl that's quiet until she knows her surroundings. the girl that has a great sense of humor, who laughs at all his jokes. the girl who's half his size, who fits alongside his body perfectly. the girl who sleeps with him, but doesn't have sex, just sleeps, her head on his chest and arm around his stomach. he loves the "different" me that you've so easily decided to throw away.
