Why is it I always choose wrong? It's like my heart seems to reject logic just for the sale of arguing. Like a small child, it knows what's right and always chooses opposite to spite the reasonable adult of my head. I know he cares and I know that you dont. But yet my heart decides that tiny, insignificant detail can become a basis for the truth. It's wrong of course, these details are nothing more than insignificant but yet the heart reaches and yearns all the same. We always want what we can't have but I'm so afraid of being alone I would just as soon fall in false love than wait forever for that which will not come. Why can't I seem to understand you. People are never so complicated as they seem yet each glance of your eyes makes me want to hide and to know what the reason could be.

The tales they whisper, write with your heart. Feel the magic as it streams toward the page. But what if the beauty is dried and cracked? What if the ink, it fades? What if you were to find it then? Left on a tear-stained page. Dotted and blackened and worn with age. Would you be interested? Sparked with the gentle lull of curiosity? Would you try to unlock the hidden secrets? Would you labor over the words that wouldn't come, or had been worn away? And what if the letter turned up empty? What if the meaning was simply the harshest form of bullshit. Yes, mystery is alluring, and captivating to the mind, but what if the mystery hides merely illusion? When the magician's tricks are revealed will you walk away? When a person goes from god to man does your love fade? What if i go from expectation to reality...? Will everyone walk away? I know. It's different. But does that make it bad? Just because the grace comes not from a work of artistry or ballet, but from a place buried, deep inside. I've hidden it. But will you be worth my wait? Or will I just walk away?

I haven't written. Not in a while i suppose. Not in a long while. It feels childish. This game of give and take. This never-ending threat of tears which i then push down with cold and numbness because i don't want to feel. No, not that even. I just don't think it's right to feel. How do they do it all? How do they seem so happy so often....It just never works out right. "the best friend". That's my character type. Im too ugly, too fat, to honest, too depressed and weird and awkward to play the hero. She's everything im not. Beauty and grace and strength. Tell me. Have you ever seen a hero cry? Or push away all of the ones that love her because she is repulsed by her own self. Maybe temporarily. But it never lasts for long. Because life? that goes on. But not when you're alone. And when the feelings drown you. The measuring and running and giving up and starting over only to end up with more than you bargined for and less than you can handle. I can't stand it. Any of it. And they're all gone. I'll start over again in less than a year but i don't even know if i can do it. i've spent 14 years with the same 120 people. And now it's ending. And i'll be alone. It'll be the first time. Growing up is strange to me. I can feel myself pushing myself into these roles that seem all wrong. And everyone i've ever tried to impress, it doesn't matter.....none of it matters. Not that they were impressed anyway. I just wish....i just want it to be gone. but it'll be ok. because...life goes on. She said i'm silent. When i cry. Most people, they cry ugly. They tear themselves to pieces and let it all out. but i can't i just let it out. in streams. and it hurts but it won't ever leave. but it's gonna be ok.