What hurts the most is knowing that every thing coming out of your mouth is probably a lie, but wanting to believe it with every fiber of my being. I'm the only one that has stuck beside you, or at least the only genuine one.

Wonderful by Gary Go

please listen to this song

This is the most meaningful CD I've ever been given. I was so lucky to have met you.

If we could forget each other, if we could walk away from those divine memories and pretend that we're not still coiled around each other, entwined around the idea of a future between the two of us then maybe we'd both feel some kind of closure. For now, we don't. For now, it's not over. Our story isn't over, it's still being written.

"I thought I could live in your arms and spend every moment I had with you. Stay up all night with the stars, confess all the faith that I had in you. It's too late, I'm sure and I'm lonely. It's another night, another dream wasted on you. So just be here now, against me. You know the words, so sing along for me baby. For heaven's sake, I know you're sorry but you won't stop crying. This anniversary may never be the same. Inside, I hope you know, I'm dying with my heart beside me, in shattered pieces that may never be replaced. And if I died right now, you'd never be the same."

Three Cheers for Five Years by Mayday Parade
I'm not terribly fond of them as a band but I love this song and I love their lyrics. This is a song I'd recommend to anyone.

I’m trying to do everything, live up to every expectation people have ever had of me and every expectation I’ve had of myself and I’m drowning. I can smile and I can be okay, and for mere moments some times, I can completely forget about all of the things eating away at me but when I lay down on this bed, finally allow some kind of light sleep to fall over me and allow my mind to wander and speak as it please, I realize how disappointed and stressed I feel a majority of the time. I want to do well in school. I want to impress my parents. I want to go to college. I want to get out of here. I want to discover myself and have adventures, but if I truly want to pursue the career I’ve always wanted to pursue, I don’t have time for that. I want to be with my best friend. I want to let her have her own life. I want to be independent. I can’t be independent. I want to be skinnier than I am, just because I refuse to have one more reason to not feel beautiful or one more reason that people won’t find me attractive. I want to look like a super model. I want to work out. I want to go to sleep. I want to be alone. I want you to love me again. I want to work for your love. I want to try new things and not be stuck in what I may or may not want to be. I want to break the mold. I want to fit the mold completely. I want to be a good person. I want to be who ever I am, good or bad. I want to live.

I want to do all of these things and it’s overwhelming. It’s scaring me. I feel like I have so much to do and no time to do it. I feel like I’m so driven to do all of these things but I have no legitimate motivation. I feel like, honestly, I wish the world around me didn’t put all of this pressure on me. I wish I didn’t put this much pressure on myself. I wish I wasn’t so scared of growing up. I wish I felt like I was doing what I wanted. I wish I didn’t feel this way. Most of all, I just wish I could understand what it is I’m feeling and why I feel this way and change accordingly.

Tell my love to wreck it all, cut out all the ropes and let me fall.

I feel like I’ve been neglecting my writing lately, and a lot of the people that did me good in my life lately. Most of all though, I feel like I’ve been neglecting myself. I need to sit down and balance things, sit down and let what has been festering in the bottom of my soul to come in to the light. I have to look it in it’s eyes, get down to the bottom of the grievances between us and see if we can revise the story that has been written. The things that I can not fix, I must accept and learn to deal with. It’s that easy with me, really. I might get scared, worried and a little scatter brained sometimes but once I sit down with myself, I will be okay again. I can rebuild myself and that is the true meaning of independence.

It feels nice to pretend that you’re here, to see your face amongst a sea of others, even if for one moment. It’s nice to imagine you’re next to me, even if just the ease the loneliness for a moment. It’s nice to imagine that it’s just us, in that field you always talked about, with that boy we always dreamed. It’s nice to imagine the world that could have been. In some ways it’s terribly sad, but in other ways it puts me at peace to know that in some other world everything that could have been is. There’s a different us somewhere else that is living the life we always talked about. I have to believe that our love wasn’t a waste of time, wasn’t just a passing chapter in a book. It was real, and it is being lived somewhere else, somewhere away from this place.

You can hear the pain in her voice, how she means each one of the words she sings, because she’s felt those feelings before. That’s the singer I try to be, have every emotion I’ve felt that resembles the lyrics in front of me flow from within me and come out of my lips with just as much feeling as when they were written. Being a singer is more than fame, glory, money, and fans to me although I won’t sit here and pretend those material things aren’t attractive benefits, just extraneous. Being a singer is for me, yes, but it’s my way of giving back what has been given to me. It takes a lot to get on a stage and bear your soul for all to see and criticize, the kind of courage that I find admirable in others. Singing other people’s words makes me feel like I’m sharing something with them, like I know some part of them that some people don’t. It’s makes me feel a connection, it’s friendship. Singing the words I write makes me feel more than courageous, it makes me feel free. Courage is freedom. It’s more than what I want to be, it’s who I am. I’m a singer.

Sitting in this room, surrounded by these undeniably talented people, I can't help but be in awe of them. I can't help but want them to admire me as well. You're all so beautiful, not just because of your voices, but because of your heart, your dedication to what you do. I know that maybe I might not know you as well as I'd like to, or maybe we don't get along particularly but that doesn't mean I don't recognize you for what you are. You'll all go so far, and I hope you have someone there every day that is telling you that.

It's cliche but every time I'm around you, the rest of the world fades away. Your words find me in the vast sea of monotony, grab me as I let the deluge of high school drama and close-mindedness start to drown me. When you're next to me, I'm okay. I'm high above water. I love you, I'm in love with you. When you are near, there is nothing else and I love that.

Stop talking to me.

Your voice is nails on the chalk board to me, your words are irritating. Every thing that comes out of your mouth is just a regurgitation of things we've all heard. It's nothing you've ever experienced, it's only a story you've heard and stolen, pretended that it was your own. Perhaps you believe the stories you tell now, percieve them to be your own, perhaps you've heard them so many times that you actually believe they are. You're nothing, nothing but a bug under my shoe and a pain in my ass. I'm going to be so much more than you ever expected, and even then, you'll probably say how well you knew me.

I felt very pretty today.

His feathery, lustrous skin and peaceful lips washed over my body like the ocean on to the shore, washed the strangest and most comforting feeling of serenity on to the most overwhelmed and tense parts of me. Suddenly in one subtle moment, all worry had dissolved and I knew nothing but his touch, nothing but his taste. Surrounded by only him, knowing only him, I fell. I fell down the rabbit hole and beyond, in to a place I now call home. It is not so uncomfortable this place, only secluded and reminiscent. As time passes, I do not worry about the trials and tribulations of yesterday, only when I will know that enchanted touch once more.

I can't stand that most of the counselor and teachers in this school think they can just assume that we're all the same, that we're all juvenile delinquents just because we're not athletes or consistent straight A students. I can't stand that they think they can clump us together, fit us in to the mold of these generic stereotypical roles. They assume they know what's wrong, if anything even is. They judge us and analyze our every moves, our every word, and think they somehow know us. They don' though, they don't know anything about us or our lives. At least I have enough respect (even as a teenager) to not presume I know a thing about their feelings, pasts and them as people.

We're just kids passing by to them, not people.

Sometimes I sit down and think about people, things they've done to me and things I've done and it really starts to hit me. I can't explain what I mean...just, sometimes I ignore my feelings and then it slips to the surface and I start to realize how profoundly it has affected me and how hurt I actually am, then I wonder how I keep this calm facade when I have all of these gut wrenching, bone shaking, painful feelings inside of me. It's weird, and a little frightening, that I'm so good at hiding the truth. I start to wonder if that's why some of my relationsips don't work, 'cause I act so uncaring and indifferent but then when the truth comes out, I'm just a breakable girl who has been broken before. I've built up this nearly impenetrable wall because I'm so scared and damaged and aching and resentful.

And I started to think about how I ruined our relationship...and I did. It's true. I hate myself for it. All this time I've waited for him to love me again, give me another chance. All this time I've searched for him in others, given myself freely until there was nothing left. Instead of hardened by lack of touch, I was shattered by loveless touch. I tried to maintain that hard outer exterior that I'd earned, the wall I'd built from abuse and hurt, only to find out he loved the most beautiful parts of me...the parts of me that were pure and fragile.