Revision:

I went to the Garden of Love,
And saw what I never had seen:
A Chapel was built in the midst,
Where I used to play on the green

And the gates of this Chapel were shut,
And "Though shalt not" writ over the door;
So I turned to the Garden of Love
That so many sweet flowers bore;

And I saw it was filled with graves,
And tomb-stones where flowers should be;
And Priests in black gowns were walking their rounds,
And binding with briars my joys and desires.

I haven't thought about it in a long time until I find an entry and I read it. It wasn't there for me to read...but I happened upon it anyway. I wish I knew what you were thinking. I just want to figure this out so that I can just stop wondering if there was something that could have been different. It was an accident that i read it but I don't think it was an accident that you wrote it. I started to write you a letter but all it says is Dear Kiddo...I put it under the red pillowcases, you know the ones that always reminded me of you? Then I thought about the past...and about how you didn't know me then, how can you know me now? You didnt know how I ticked, you didn't understand my reactions to anything. And now alls that I'm thinking is what if I did something wrong. I've got no cares but I've got every problem in the world. Just breathe while I confess murder to you, as I tell you my deepest dreams all over again. What you did is still hurting me and I'm still not hating you for it. All we've got is dead feelings. All I've got is a bottle of lies, a pillow full of dreams, and a head full of ideas.

Jibberish...thats what this all is.

What is going on in my head at this moment:

Come up to meet you,
tell you I'm sorry,
you don't know how lovely you are...
I had to find you,
tell you I need you.
Tell you I set you apart.
Tell me your secrets.
Ask me your questions.
Oh, let's go back to the stars.

The way she feels inside, so real she can't deny.
I miss the kitchen.
I miss the bed sheets.
I miss the grass.
I miss the laughing.
I miss the love.

I'm still not ready.

My hands are so short, stubby and ugly. In a lot of ways my handwriting doesn't reflect that at all, at least that's how I like to look at it. The point is, I didn't dream about him last night, which made me things worse because then I thought about him all day. Let me know what I've done wrong, but I've known what is was all along.

H: No man gives up his honor for love.
N: Millions of women have done just that.

My feelings exactly.

Painting a picture of my own destruction. When I do it I'll add blood, pain, and merciless hate. Towards you, towards everyone, so fuck you too. MY eyes are apparently too blind to see, MY ears are apparently too deaf to hear. Well hear this. And see it too. My mind is wasting away. My heart is falling apart. My body is dying. My life is failing me. Just. Like. You. Just like always. Looking through faces? Looking for answers? Met someone new yet? Found a new face yet? Maybe. Maybe I have. Maybe I know. Maybe I heard. Maybe I answered, most likely you didn't. Maybe I just know better. Probably I don't. So I'll go read a book, or knit a scarf, or sing a song, or possibly start on that painting. Or maybe I'll just do my homework to get something done, or clean my room to make my mom happy, or rest. Rest my dying body. Don't blame me, I was only in the way.

I wrote this when I was 16.

I have a new crush and his name is Daniel Craig and his eyes are bluer than the sea, even when he's completly covered in blood. In case you haven't see Casino Royale as soon as possible:

Life is beautiful, but it's complicated and we barely make it.

So...this weekend I really learned about the saying "you don't know what you go till it's gone." I mean really, why is it that whenever I have something that could be potentially great sitting right in front of me, i can't act on it. It's like a disease, it's like a personality trait for me, I can't be happy with something if someone else isn't happy with it or if someone else tells me it would never work out. And really, do i ever end up happier listening to other people divuldge information about MY personal life to ME? I know I ask for it and really, there is no one to blame in this but me. Still, I can't help but think that I should think more about what I want and more about what would be good for me RIGHT NOW, not what people would say or think about me later. I hurt someone's feelings and now I'm the one sad. And I wasn't jealous, I was ACTUALLY sad. I know it wasn't all the different things that may have been going on that night, I know why I was sad and I know what I did wrong. Now I just really really don't know what to do. I don't want to tell them because, fuck, they've moved on and so that means I should too right? Before I didn't even think that it would be anything to move onto from, I thought it was going to pass through like it ain't no thing. Now they have a chance to be happy and if I'm their friend, I have to respect that. And I'm going to. I'm going to keep quiet and let the chips fall as they may.

Let's just say, my mother would not approve.