I saw one gaze frozen in time watching me passing by,

And I swear I’ll know your face in the crowd and I’ll hear your voice so loud…

I refuse to call or message any of the people who matter most to me. I don’t even know why. I think my biggest fear is that they’ll be left thinking, why is she talking to me… even though they have given me no reason to think they don’t like me. I just can’t bring myself to do it. I can’t keep forcing them to make the effort to keep in contact with me until they don’t even bother anymore, but it has happened so many times now, I don’t even really think about. It hurts a little less each time, and by now, there isn’t really anybody left.

Even the kindest of folk who attempt to make a new friend of me become casualties of this self-sabotaging war. How many conversations have I prematurely terminated by making up stupid excuses? How many glances have I avoided just to prevent a conversation that I would inevitably try to escape? How long will it be before I am nothing more than the crazy cat ferret lady who is afraid of humanity and can only find comfort in her furry friends?

Seriously. The NICEST of people can’t even break this thing that prevents me from having normal, healthy social interactions.

So, there’s that girl that never keeps in touch.

It’s so easy to let people drift out of my life. I don’t think I’ve ever actually made one single effort to keep a friend. Not one. It was also easy to hide this fact about myself during high school because I saw everyone everyday anyways, so really, I didn’t need to make an effort. Once it ended though, the fog cleared, and people could see me for the uncaring, bitch I really am, right? Sorta.

I think I enjoy tearing myself to pieces when I’m alone. No one to protect me from myself. The scars prove it, and even then, I got absolutely nothing from it. It’s this hollowness that I don’t even try to fill. It’s threatening to swallow me whole, and then I get a text from someone who I still haven’t managed to drive away, and I forget, if only for a moment, what a loner I am and deserve to be.

When the only one who knows all my secrets is my dresser mirror, I’m starting to think I’m too far in for anyone to save me now.

It is what it is.

I haven’t exactly been preparing for this enough, mentally anyways. I mean, I’ve looked up potential courses, and programs and obviously different universities, but I never really thought this moment, this part of life would ever come. You know, the whole growing up thing. What with tuition being as expensive as it is, it seems like we’re all competing with other twelfth graders to make something of ourselves. You’d think the ‘future of tomorrow’ would be a bigger investment than a war half way across the world that is not only wasting resources, but sacrificing the lives of our brave men and women for an ambiguous cause. I still have no clue what I’ll do after I get my degree, that official looking piece of paper that tells people i’ve just spent 4 years of my life learning things I’ll probably never use in my realized career. I’d love to just say ‘whatever’ right now, but it would seem a little irresponsible to say such a thing in the face of one of the biggest decisions of my life, so, instead, I say “let’s scream until we can’t walk” because I really need to release some tension. Ttfn , tatafornow.

Hearts don’t grow on trees.

I took the liberty of erasing your messages and deleting every memory of you. If i never have to look into your eyes again and see how much you never wanted me, it can be like you never existed. But really, was what I meant to you that forgettable?

I keep to myself, but for the first time, it felt right to let you in. For once, I let go of my fear of personal rejection, and I paid the price. I still couldn’t handle it. I still can’t handle it.

I thought if I was honest with myself, I could turn all my nightmares into dreams, and dreams into reality. Needless to say, my reality needed more work before it could accept any new fantasies for friends.

Anyways, thanks for nothing.  I’m glad that all I have left to remember you by is that song that plays over and over in my head at the most inappropriate of moments. It reminds me of that one time I let myself free. Never again.

Even though I won’t go, I want you to say it,

“Please stay here with me, please stay here with me.”

We had the perfect reunion; two lovers who were never truly separated.

How does one fall for someone knowing that in a matter of days, they might never see each other again? It was love like at first sight, but it was stupid and immature. Still, I dream of our broken conversations, and my breaking your heart. Here’s to the goodbye I never gave you the chance to give.

Adulthood is chaotic. They are phonies. Holden may have lied, but of this, he spoke the truth. Why does everyone need to know how everyone else is doing…people they don’t even really care about, just people they run into and feel the need to converse with. It’s so forced, and rehearsed. Question, answer, witty comment, laughter, repeat; note: resort to the weather if topics run out. Why? Sure, you learn something new with every conversation, but when the topics discussed are so contrived, and mundane, really, what is the point? How many times do I need to hear how nice of a day it is, twisted and reworded to be humorous or thoughtful. It still means the same thing. I don’t need to deal with someone’s complaining, I don’t need to hear their latest sexual escapades, I don’t need to know about the last episode of Gossip Girl…

I should just be a hermit and never leave my room except to write exams. Done and done…

And all she can taste is the cold of the sun beaming down upon her.

The loneliest time of the year; lonelier than Christmas, more isolating than cold winter nights. The schools sleep as the students finally wake. During the summer, she doesn’t exist. She ignores phone calls. It’s on silent. Facebook becomes the terrifying nightmare that is now filled with cobwebs accumulated from neglect. The icon of two turquoise busts with a white ‘x’ encased in a circle of red sits in the corner of her computer screen. No one can reach her, no one can touch her and no one can hurt her. She cares too much to show others that she cares at all. Yes, this is the time of year when dreamers fall into their own thoughts.

And so what if she never goes out. That feeling she gets when she’s with everyone is worse than knowing about the rumors. What does it feel like, to be wanted, as opposed to an obligation? Prove that she’s not invisible. Prove to her that she’s worth it. Dissolve all her fears. She’s sick of writing to you, and being too afraid to write to somebody, anybody. But you are just paper; the infinite medium of her mind. Nothing and everything.

No matter what, it means nothing if you can’t say it out loud.

It’s not that she liked to be alone; it’s not that she wouldn’t mind the company, to join their conversations. It was just that she had no idea how. They go out of their way to be rejected by tears and mumbles. I just can’t. People who say they like being alone are either liars or arrogant of their own popularity. Some people don’t have a choice. She has to be alone because it’s easier to deal with the loneliness than to force her to follow the social niceties and mannerisms. Nostalgia and memories is something she can’t stand anymore. Even in times like these when they are her closest friends, when she’s alone, when they’re all she has left. She cannot live with them without taking permanent residence in her mind. Count me out (in).