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I’m still scared of the dark.

Just everything inside of it—the things I don’t know about it.

The knocks, noises, and “things that go bump in the night.”

I’d hide under my covers but I can’t stand breathing in warmth.

I like the cold.

I hate this feeling.

SundayNightRant

"Here comes the tickle monster!"

You played along with me, stopping a little bit after I asked, even though I loved it so. I love that you played with me, making me smile and laugh like the little girl I wish I still was. 

You’d skip around with me, run, laugh, and sing like lunatics along to songs on the radio, driving recklessly in all sorts of different kinds of directions to one special destination up seven flights of aimless parking lot driving to a theatre full of red velvet seats. 

And we’ll laugh some more and jump around and kick elevator buttons, kissing each other on the way down, giving people stares from crazy in love crazed eyes.

I’ll give you a nickel to wish upon as you throw it backwards into the big fountain, and I’ll wonder what you wished for, but I guess I’ll have to wait for it to come true before you tell me—if you remember that is.

We’ll cuddle and hug and kiss through the lines and all the waiting and the whole entire movie for hours and hours and hours and we’ll go back home, listening to the same old songs that make little to no sense and you’ll invite me inside and I’ll park and we’ll smell the fresh manure on your neighbor’s lawn.

We make our way through your house and onto your couch, kissing each other ever so softly—and you’ll lay your head on me and rest your eyes for a few minutes before I have to leave as we exchange I love yous and thanks for a night well spent.

I’ll walk out your door, getting things from the car that you forgot, wishing I could fall asleep in your arms once more, but we’ll leave after never enough kisses and hugs, trying to chase your cat back inside. And I’ll leave and you’ll run up to bed.

I’ll sit here wondering why it is you’re so perfect.

Wishing that I could be by your side tonight.

I’m wishing you well, my dear.

I’ll miss you, I really will

but I’ll be thinking of you every now and then

feeling you forget me

us

but I’ll be here

I really will

Always.

I’m scared

I’m lonely

I wish you were here to hold me

"Because I care about you"

STOP. STOP. STOP. STOP. STOP.

The music filled my ears

I fell in love with the tune

the voice

the echoes

and I fell in love with the comfort

the feelings

and all the rest of everything that went with being on hardwood floors

…everything felt so normal…

and I wanted just once to feel you hold me tight

you did

and you turned me around

and we swayed with the music

thoughts entangling our feet as we gracefully spun 

around and around and around and around

and I missed you. I missed you. I missed you.

Do you ever get really scared of losing someone? and miss them even if they’re right in front of you? I feel so alone in this feeling….but I can’t seem to get it in my head that I’m not losing you with every kiss.

Remember back in the day when our teachers would ask us what we wanted to do in 10 years? I can’t remember whether or not that ten years has come yet…but today someone asked about life 20 years from now…then I realized that I’ve wasted a lot of days in this precious life of mine. I need to make up for what I’ve lost. I’m seventeen years young, but everything is going by so fast.

I can’t do this without you.

Got a bottle of Bacardi

A bottle of vodka

A little extra champagne

and some things that’ll put me right to sleep

"Life is a beach, I’m just playing in the sand"

I’m scared of letting you go

At least high all you do is laugh.

It’s a fake sort of happy but it sure as hell is better than this. There’s no room for tears or sadness and I know I look and feel ridiculous but it’s worth it not to feel like total, utter shit all the time. But I hate it at the same time. For changing me. For changing you. It’s fucking ridiculous. Pathetic. So. Fucking. Pathetic. It’s a wonder why we’ve grown to like it so much—since it gives us that escape for however long. It helps me forget. Literally forget—where I am, who I’m with, what I’m doing, where I’m going. What’s going on. That’s scary. It really is. Not at the time…but just knowing that you can forget how things felt, physically or emotionally I can’t remember pain, bad moods, heartbreaking sickness…I just let it go…but I couldn’t even remember your kiss. That’s what scares me most.

I’m falling apart
I’m falling apart
I’m falling apart

I’m falling apart

I’m falling apart

I’m falling apart

To fall asleep these days I cling to my pillow and pretend it’s you