I guess I miss you. I don’t know–it’s hard to tell when the rest of my life is going so perfectly and you’re the only thing wrong. I hate getting older, though. Being forced to let things go and realize that not everyone cares, not everyone will try for you. I see that kind of … More Chapters


Broken. That’s what I said, the word I used. That’s what I told myself, and him, as I re-read the letters. Boxed the photographs. Dreamed about us. We’re broken, we’re a mistake, we’re not happy. We were so lost in each other, we forgot who we were–and I was tired of living with the one … More Damaged


I’ve recently learned that some things have to end before others can begin. I used to care about different people and want different things. I cared so much, about keeping us together and staying where I was for as long as possible. I didn’t understand that some things were made to be broken. And they … More Halcyon


Being with you is like never getting older, and never wanting to. Looking at you is like being somewhere only we know, set apart from the rest of the world. Laughing with you is like driving forever in a red Mustang GT through the desert. It’s a feeling I wish I could capture, to bottle … More Smitten


I cannot change. No matter how hard I try, I can’t fix myself. I can’t sculpt my body to the perfect figure, or paint my face the way I wish I looked. I hate that I feel this way, that I’m so unhappy and so emotional. The problem is deep inside myself, in my soul, … More Unforgiving