June 29, 2011
When I’m older and my little girl asks me who my first true love was, I don’t want to have to pull out the old photo album. I want to be able to point across the room and say, “he’s sitting right there.”
Maybe we’re too young and I don’t even know what’s real. But I know I’ve never wanted anything so bad. I’ve never wanted anyone so bad.
Sometimes someone comes along and makes you forget someone else. Remember, they’re not better, they’re just different.
But I couldn’t make you see it, that I loved you more than you’ll ever know; a part of me died when I let you go.
Sometimes I wish I hadn’t been in such a hurry to move forward. There comes a point when it becomes impossible to go back.
The bad thing about falling to pieces is that it hurts. The good thing about it is that once you’re lying there in shards, you’ve got nothing left to protect, and so you have no reason not to be honest.
I know that each and every one of you has felt, at one point, like you couldn’t go on. But then you found hope. There’s always some way to find hope. Remember that.
If you repeat chapters, the ending will remain the same.
Things have changed so much they’ve gotten to the point where I really don’t know you anymore.
Two of the hardest tests in life: The patience to wait for the right moment and the courage to accept that you’ve waited for nothing.
That’s it. I’m putting my walls back up. Never tearing them down again or letting people through. I should have never let you in.
There is no “magic cure”, no “making it all go away forever”. There are only small steps upward; an easier day, an unexpected laugh, a mirror that doesn’t matter anymore.
I think when you are young, you are hoping that the person will be the right one, the one you are going to be in love with forever. But sometimes, you want that so much; you create something that isn’t there.
I want to go back to believing in everything, and knowing nothing at all.
If you are depressed you are living in the past. If you are anxious you are living in the future. If you are at peace you are living in the present.
It turns out that sometimes you have to do the wrong thing. Sometimes you have to make a mistake to figure out how to make things right. Mistakes are painful, but they are the only way to figure out who you really are.
The past is annoying; it always shows up. In everybody’s words, in every song you hear, in every block you walk, and you never get rid of it, no matter how hard you try.
Everyone tells me I should forget about you, you don’t deserve me. They’re right, you don’t deserve me, but I deserve you.
Don’t let him have the satisfaction of knowing you’ll always be there waiting.
At some point you will realize that you have done too much for someone, that the only next possible step to do is to stop. Leave them alone. Walk away. It’s not like you’re giving up, and it’s not like you shouldn’t try. It’s just that you have to draw the line of determination from desperation. What is truly yours will eventually be yours, and what is not, no matter how hard you try, will never be.
What I’ve learned is not to change who you are, because eventually you’re going to run out of new things to become.
Be kind to everyone. You may not be able to save a person, but at least you weren’t one of the people who didn’t try.
When you do bad things, people call you a rebel. They say you have problems. Have you ever thought that some do for the sheer thrill and enjoyment of doing these things? But maybe there is an under-lying problem within me that I just can’t seem to find, or maybe I’m that drunk chick coming home from the bar or a friends house at 3 in the morning, completely plastered, either way, I do bad things, and no matter how many times I get in trouble for them, or how many people scold me for doing them, I’m going to do them anyway.
It’s time to move on with my life. I’ve got to stop reading the same page & continue turning the pages. The memories are still locked in my mind, but they’re what’s stopping me from living my life.
Hello, stranger. Do you remember how much we loved each other?
Stop right there; don’t say another word. I truly don’t want to hear what you have to say. We’re through. You fucked it up. Everything was perfect, until you decided it wasn’t.
I think the best time to say that you already found the right one is when you stop looking for more.
Do whatever makes you happy, but do it now. Live life for the moment cause everything else is uncertain. Take advantage of what’s right in front of you.
When you don’t have love, it is like there’s a party going on and everybody was invited except for you… and you just happen to walk by that house in the rain.
What is it with you girls? Can’t make the right decision until you’ve made all the wrong ones.
Did you know that after you die, your hair keeps growing? And your nails? And when you sneeze your heart stops for a millisecond? Did you know that every time I kissed him all I saw was you? Cheetahs are the fastest land animals? And know every time you called I had to lock myself in the bathroom to stop myself from answering? And that the only thing I ever loved more than you was you loving me? But I guess I loved to hate myself more. Because every time I breathed without you, it burned me. And whenever I said anything I had to bite my tongue to stop saying your name. And hurting was easier, easier than saying you were wrong. You were never wrong. Well, you were wrong. Wrong to believe I stopped loving you and wrong to keep loving me. Did you know that after seven years all the cells in your body are different? And now there’s nothing left in me of the little girl you fell in love with. And you were wrong when you said I was beautiful, when you said I was perfect. Because when you love something, you have a weakness. Can’t be perfect if you’re weak. So I guess you were wrong about that too.
You cannot hold onto anything that wants to go. You just got to love while you got it, and that’s that.
I suggest that you don’t come back when you need someone, because I’m done wasting my time.
You know, I’ve got this theory; there are two kinds of people in the world. There are lyric people and music people. You know, the lyrics people tend to be analytical. You know, all about the meaning of the song. They’re the ones you see with the CD insert out like five minutes after buying it, pouring over the lyrics, interpreting the hell out of everything. Then there’s the music people… who could care less for the lyrics as long as it’s just got, like, a good beat and you could dance to it. I don’t know, sometimes it might be easier to be a music girl and not a lyric girl. But since I’m not, let me just say this: sometimes things find you when you need them to find you. I believe that. And for me, it’s usually song lyrics.
With my fingertips, I trace on your bare skin all of the things I’d like to say to you, but cannot speak. You mean everything. There are not quite enough word to tell you all the things that you’ve become for me.