this is really hard to write

I  have a confession to make.
I was never upset. I was afraid, that I fucked everything up with someone I really cared about, one of the only people who I ever let see the real me, and i thought things would never feel the the way the used to.
I was afraid that I would depend on him again, that I never stopped needing him, but that he didn't feel the same.
And so I covered up my fear with anger, and I walked away, which is exactly what happened before.
because it's not that we can't friends the way we used to.
It's the fact that we can that scares me, how easy it is to feel comfortable, for everything to feel like they were.

That's Not Me

People look at me, my face, hear my voice, and tell me I'm emotionless.

That I'm aloof.

But if they read my words they would know that's not me at all.

i have more emotions than I know what to do with.

But people don't know me well enough to understand that.

I maybe I don't show it enough for them to realize it.

i can't help if my face isn't an open book, that I shield my eyes from what's running through my mind.

But if you read my words, you would see that I think about everything, all the time, That I miss that best friend that I lost, that I'm in love with the guy I pretend I don't care about.

That I cried myself to sleep when my last boyfriend broke my heart.

That I have hopes, dreams, fears, worries,

insecurities.

That no matter what people think, that person they describe me as,

it isn't me. It never has been, and never will be.

My Escape

How is it that I'm the only one who cares?

Because that's how it feels.

And I wish it weren't true.

Writing,

it's My love , my passion.

My life.

Seeing my words in print, that's what I dream about.

That pen in my hand never disappears, and my hands never cramp from the endless scribbling that I do.

My passion.

My glory,

It's what tells my story.

And that's never going to change.

I just wish other people saw that.

Brown Eyes

Its crazy how emotionless you can be.

You're just apathetic, and it makes me wonder:

How can you be so heartless?

I don't know.

That's what I've been trying to figure out.

Because even after all that's happened, I can't say that I feel nothing when I see you.

And I can't help that you can sense it when you look into my eyes.

But wen i look into yours-

there's nothing.

And it takes me back to when the wound you left was still ride open, and I wondered if you ever really cared for me.

I don't know what it is about you, but somehow you get to me every time, and no matter how hard i try to hide it, I show it sometimes.

And even though I know I wouldn't take you back, I kind of wish I could see how you really felt.

I don't want to hear your bullshit and overused lines that you use everyday.

I want something real, raw, and vulnerable.

But I guess that's not possible for you, is it?

I Guess You're Not

I wish you would just respond. Just tell me everything is going to be okay like you used to.

Because I need that, someone to listen when my hand is tired from writing what I feel.

Can you do that?

Be there for me like you used to?

Or am I being foolish? Am I hoping for something that's long gone?

All I want is for you to be there for me, when I need you.

But now it just seems like I'm waiting for a response that will never come, a hug I'll never feel, a best friend in you wished I could have, but never do.

And I'm left with this pang of disappointment in my stomach when I look for you and you're nowhere to be found.

All this time, I'm wondering:

Are you there?

I guess not.

Well I Don't

You tell me that you want to see what happen with us in the future, that you still regret how we fell apart, that you believe you've changed.

You tell me that you still have feelings for me, that you know that you can make me happy.

Well I don't.

I don't want you back. I don't have oppressed feelings for you. I don't think you've changed, and I don't want to wait till you do.

So stop trying. Stop pretending to be my friend, just to barrage me with this bullshit, because I'm tired of it.

I'm not someone you can feel bad for, and hope that the feelings I had for you are still there.

Because they're not.

You say you wish we we could be what we once were.

Well I don't.

Damn you College Board

Dear College Board,

why do you have to give me a hard time every time I need to deal with your damn site! do you have a vendetta against me?Because this isn't the firs time that I've had to deal with some crap like,

I'm sorry you have two accounts and one needs to be deleted for us to let you in.

OR

You're address is unrecognizable

OR

You don't seem to be affiliated with any high school

And next thing I know, I'm trying to log into the site for an hour, and I have the sudden urge to slam my compute into the wall.

So I just want to say thank you, you piece of crap, that only seems to hate me and waste my time with endless waiting.

Is i that had to register for the SAT?

I'm tired of people telling me who I am. What I'm capable of. What I should think. What my priorities should be.

Just let me live, make mistakes, fall, and realize that yeah, I fucked up.

Because that's life. And I do understand that. I can't help that I'm sixteen. What am I supposed to do, get in a time machine and fast forward till I'm an adult?

I'm emotional. I cry when I'm angry. I say shit I don't mean. I forget things. I've dated douche bags because they're cute.

So have a lot of people.

I shouldn't be expected to grow up in a year, because I have to apply to college soon.

I'm working my ass off, and I realize that I make mistakes, I'm pretty sure I make them every day. But I'm trying to learn from them as much as I make them.

And maybe I don't understand everything. Like paying my own bills, or having a kid, but who the hell understands any of that at my age?

So excuse me if I still forget to take an umbrella, or if I can't handle babysitting kids because I have no patience, or if I still procrastinate for everything I need to do. Excuse me if I get pissed and blast Eminem in my room.

Excuse me if I don't want to go to some party full of adults I don't know and hear them talk about mortgages and taxes.

Excuse me if I waste my money on bacon egg and cheeses and butter bagels and didn't save it for my college tuition. Excuse me if I don't want to talk about what colleges I visited, and their pros and cons with every adult everywhere I go. I have a whole class for that in school, so shut the hell up and let me breathe.

Let me be a teenager jeez.

Just talk about me in the third person. Just assume I don't understand anything. That I'm selfish. Immature. Apathetic.

What do I care anyway? I don't get it. I don't care about anyone but myself. I'm a teenager, it's expected. I'm just like every other teenager there is.

Rude, disrespectful.

A follower.

My priorities are all screwed up, right?

No, don't ask me how I feel. Just volunteer me. Because I have no say.

I mean, I'll just say something ignorant and self absorbed, might as well just disregard it.

Are We?

I wonder if I matter to you as much as you matter to me. If what we went through, all the firsts we had, the memories we made, are forgotten to you.

Because there are some days I wonder why we didn't work out, and if one day you and I will take on the world together, like we once did.

Because I'm hoping that I'm not the only one to miss what we had. And as I've fallen in and out love,and gotten my heart broken, it occurs to me that there wasn't anything really wrong with us.

Except for the time.

And if I remember correctly, we were best friends, and we told each other things no one else knew. You were the only person who could calm me down, because you were the one person who listened instead of criticizing me, and none of that has changed.

As I write this, and think about what happened in the end, I wonder if you and I are really done, for good.

Are we?

I'm hoping you changed, that you're not trying to fuck her over the way you're known to do. Because I see so much of me in her its insane. The way you are with her reminds me of us, before...

Maybe it's not my place, and I should just stay out of it, because I guess I'm no longer relevant right? I mean, there hasn't been in an us in how long?

I just don't want you to hurt her, because she cares about you. Like I used to. Do you remember that? Because it's just a distant memory for me, not something that's nonexistent.

Maybe you don't see it, and I was the only one who cared. I thought you were one of my best friends, told you everything, and swore you felt the same. But maybe I was wrong to assume.

I should just stay out of it, right? As you tell her all the lies you told me? As you pretend to give a shit about her, and feed her what you think she wants to hear?

Dammit, I know you so well it's ridiculous, so I don't understand why you feel the need to lie to me, like I'm everyone else.

But then again, to you, maybe I am.

To me, it's crazy, how much I've grown. Reading my words is proof of that. All the times remember crying over douches, having regrets, desperately trying to understand the misunderstood, it makes me see how mature I've become, and all of the things I have been through. My words are raw and vulnerable, and sometimes they make me cringe as I go back to that split second of pain, but I still read it. I still relive those moments where I sought solace in my pen and paper, in the wordss that poured out of me uncontrollably, as I tried to understand my emotions, my thoughts,

my life.

And I can't help but smile. At reminiscing over the first time i fell in love, or my unnecessary rants, over all the stupid shit people have tried to pull.

It makes me wonder, what I'll think or feel nostalgic about as I get older.