You Had Me At Hello.

I Used To Have A Heart.

Today, I realised I love you.
I don't know if I'm in love with you - or if I just love you.
This complicates things more so. It really does.
And it's making this painful ache in my chest all the more prominent.
I'll never get to touch you, or feel you against me.
You're like everyone I ever lost. And you're like everything I want.
But you're something I can't have.
And you hurt. Boyo, you hurt me so much.
But you always did. You always made me want to cry.
But you always had a way of making me feel wanted.
But worst of all; You made me realise how much I loved her.
You are - no matter what you say - just like every other boy.
And I'll be here to be just another reference.
Your state-of-the-art example.
You're far away, too.
And distance makes the ache stretch and coil around my lungs.

Now that I have found someone; I'm feeling more alone then I ever have before.

And I can't do whatever I'm doing for very much longer.
I love Amy with all my heart. Everything about her completes me.
Everything.
But I changed. And I don't even know how I changed. But I did.
And I'm hurting her with everything I do.
Sometimes, I can't even be civil.
It's always been that way though. I'd be upset and take it out on her.
Or she'd get caught in the cross fire.
But whatever I'm doing lately, is so much worse than anything I ever would have dreamt of doing to her.
There's shadows were I used to light up. And rain clouds where everywhere was once laughter..
And I can't do this anymore.
Hurt people.
It's almost all I've ever done. But now, it hurts me too.
And I'm over the pain of my own actions.
The way my eyes burn but I can't get the relief of tears.
The way I can't sleep. Or stop thinking. Or concentrate.
The way I'm getting sick again.

She's a brick and I'm drowning slowly.

11:26 PM

The truth is, you should lie with me.

I am Erin Reynolds.

I hate my last name. I think it just adds to how ugly I am.
My middle name is Jean. It also, is ugly. But it means I can be Ej. And I quiet adore being called Ej. It's one of those affectionate things.
I an Ej Reynolds. I adore affection.
And words.
And emotion.
And memory.
And lyrics.
And voices.
And poetry.
And Shakespeare.
And many other things.
I am a girl, who likes Shakespeare and the colour blue. Although I also enjoy purple very much.
I like girls and boys. And I hate that. And I never admit it.
I am Erin. I am bisexual. And I like to be in love.
Although, I do recall at once not being in love. It was enjoyable. And refreshing. And not so lonely. In love is lonely.
I don't hate anything. I say I hate alot. I do not actually hate anything. I dislike things.
I am a liar. And I dislike myself.
I think I'm little. Only in the metaphorical sense, though.
I actually don't think I'm size little in any sense.
I give up on everything. And run away from the harder things.
I hate people like me. Because I love them so much.
I wish I could help more.
I don't like that vibration through your chest thing. Being touched by strangers. Jumping. Sweat. Or excessive loud noises.
I love live performances.
I am a walking contradiction.
I also complain far too much. I know I should stop that.
I believe in God. And I believe he hates me. And I love him.
I am Erin. I am a Christian. I lie and like girls.
I'd like to be pretty. I'd like someone to tell me how much I mean to them - even if it's a bad thing. I'd like to feel good enough. And be good at anything. I want people closer. I won't someone so deep in my heart. I'll never forget them and they can understand everything. But, I think I'm getting closer to that.
I am Erin. I will not give up any more.
I am Erin. I will try.
Because I know I can be all the things I want to be, no matter how alone I feel.
I am just me. Writing things down. Helps.
I don't know who I am at the moment. And writing things down helps. ...Usually.

You know more than you think you know and you don't understand.

2:28 AM

I existed because I dreamed and well, I dream no more.

And now you're standing alone with your eyes to the sun.

There's a word for people like you. Selfish.
And there's one for people like me. Doormat.
And you have no idea how often I get called selfish.
But, sorry, is moving 8hours away from everything I knew; everything I loved, selfish? Because I'd beg to differ.
I can't say no. I know that. And you'd have no idea how much trouble that's gotten me into. If I can say yes - I will. And even if I can't, I'd find away. And I hate it. Saying no; makes me feel horrible. You say things to me, tell me to get over things; or act like you're just fine. I know you're not fine. And I wish to God you'd take your own Fucking advice for once.
Let go. Letting go is easy. It's holding on that's hard.
I'd have given the world for one girl. I almost did. How does that make me selfish? Almost. I can't be selfish because I didn't go, right? Didn't and couldn't are so different. She wouldn't be there, when I needed the people I used to have. I've grown such a custom to their hugs - their dealing with my presence. And now I'm suffering because I can't go. She wouldn't be able to help like they did. Things would get worse. So much worse.
And now I'm suffering because I won't go.
It's not fair. Anything hardly ever is. But I'm sure as hell not fucking selfish for wanting to stay, no matter how many times it's thought, or said.
Here is better for me. I can see that. One day, you will too.

I know forever isn't long enough to forget the faces and places that played out your tragedy.

You don't do things because you love people. You don't. You try for things, and you sure are hell don't stop them. Not unless they hurt. This hurts. I know you don't want me there. I know that. But someone - anyone - would be nice. You guilt me, every time I 'hurt' you. Well guess what? You fucking hurt me too. Every time you get upset over 'me'. The looks I get. The blame I get. The way you silently make people decide you they'd prefer. Well, reality check; they don't really like you. They never really did. You're there. Because you're always there. Don't go thinking you're a favourite. I've made that mistake before. And you definitely shouldn't have.

Letters that you never meant to send.

I don't like being confused. I'm so unorganised.. But I used to be used to that. Able to cope with that and things worked out fine. Now, I have no idea. I know I need to keep a level head about things, and take them one step at a time. And I can do that. I will do that. I need to. I know not to do somethings, because there's no point to them. But I want organisation - so I can find the point to it.
Freedom. That's what I want. The ability to think uninterrupted. But some things just won't get out of my head. So I keep the mask up. And act clueless. And play the games so that I hurt people. Because the truth is, I only do that to stop myself from getting hurt. But it's like a bullet proof vest.
It'll stop you from getting killed - but it'll still sting like a bitch.

My eyes are blistered with the guilt of our past and what we would say.

11:47 PM

Whereabouts Unknown; please know you can come home.

Even then the saddest sounds, were nothing laughter could not drown. But we are not laughing now.. Swallow the sun, erase the sky - an invitation has been declined. Where did you go?

There's so much no one knows about me. So much no cares to ask, or remember, or listen about. That hurts sometimes. But sometimes it's a good thing. But 90% of the time; I don't like having to tell someone something I've already told someone else. I just want someone to know. To understand. To see the look and know if I want to talk, or if I just want them. But no one really seems to know, or care, or listen so much.

I just want one person who understands what certain things mean to me. Just one. One person who'll hug me, and smile, and look at me and make me feel better. They don't even have to tell me it'll be okay. Because honestly, I hate being told 'everything will be fine' or anything to that affect. Because, of course things will be okay - they don't have to see the scars. Or live with the torment. Or feel the way I do, every day.

They can say it's fine all they want. But they don't know the story. Sometimes I don't even know the full story. And I want someone to listen to the things I don't say. And remember, and care. I know, it's too much. I don't deserve it, at all. But I would like to mean that much to someone. I'd listen to everything anyone said, and there isn't really someone I wouldn't want to tell me everything. But no one else really seems to want, or feel that way about me. And that's okay, I guess. It just hurts that I don't have someone that I can tell everything to, and have them make me feel better.

I'm tired of people expecting something else, not understanding. I know I'm nothing special. I know that. I don't need it constantly shoved in my face. I know I make the wrong choices about alot of things. But I dwell on the points when I was loved. And I need to throw it away. I can't. And I don't entirely want to. I miss the way things used to be for me. But I love things now. There's not comparison. And nothing I can do to fix it. But there's no one who wants to fix it, who understands it at all, even.

I had someone, once, who understood to some point. Who sat with me when I talked to my counselor. We held my hand. She never held me while I cried myself to sleep and she never knew the whole story, but she knew how much he meant to me. No one knows, entirely how much he meant, and I can never show it. And I'll never say it. But she's gone now. And I don't want her back. She asked how I was taking things when the accident happened, she was the only one who asked. And couldn't even tell her the truth. But she's forgotten now. Everyone has. But I can't. It keeps me from sleeping, knowing it replays in his head everytime he closes his eyes. I can't keep from crying when I think about what he goes through every day when I complain so much about my life.

He was there, when everyone else left. When my mother couldn't stand to be around me; when she blamed me. When my dad left me. When I knew I was leaving everyone and when I wasn't okay. He was there. When she died, I felt him cry, I saw songs that reminded him of her tear him apart and I wasn't even good at being there. And now I'm not there. I lost him. I can't have him back. That day, I didn't cry, I saw the news, I read the reports, I saw my mother break down over it. And I went to the hospital, and I saw the scars in his eyes. And I didn't cry. He didn't do anything wrong. It wasn't his fault. And I can still blame myself. Because if I never left, he wouldn't have been there. And they'd all still be alive. But I made them take me away from him. And I lost more then my best friend. I lost everything. And I never cried. I never wrote him letters. I never called him. And then I see him, and he takes me back, holds me like I never left, tells me how much he loves me. Because he doesn't blame me. I listened to the story the way he told it. And I cried. I heard the pain, and saw the tears. And I cried. He made me smell like her; the girl he blames himself for losing. It wasn't his fault. And I still blame myself.

He asked me to leave. Because he needs me. And I can't go, I can't. I'd have gone for him. To be there everyday, and fix those scars. But if they take him away again. I can't lose him, not again. I can't live in that place without him. And I can't be away from every escape. It meant alot that I went. I wanted to. It wouldn't have been nice, a new place, new people. I had that opportunity. I don't think anyone knows how much it would have meant to me. But I can't leave. Because I need to be here. Because if I lose him again, I need everyone I can get. I'll need what I know. And I'll need my escape. If I can keep him, I'll be here, and I can see him when I can. And things will stay the same. They could be so much better, but I can't take that risk. Because I can't live through that. And no one understands. It's not my fault. But I need here. Because it's familiar. And I can love it here. I will love it here. Because it's the only place I can be where I can fall apart like this.

"Fuck this hurts." "I know it hurts. That's life. If nothing else, It's life. It’s real, and sometimes it fucking hurts, but it's sort of all we have."

11:50 PM

Your stiches are all out but your scars are healing wrong.

See, the thing is. The world revolves around the sun, right? And the moon revolves around the Earth? And the sun gets held in place with the universe. And all the sun is, is a star. It's immense, none the less. But it's still a star, and alas, it will burn out.

Lord, please keep my feet flat on the ground.

Everything that keeps us alive. Will burn out.
It's not what we want, it's inevitable.
People say they don't believe in fate, or destiny, or chance..
So by pure chance the sun will dissipate and the Earth will cease life section?
Un-fucking-likely.
But you see; There is such thing as fate - in a manner of speaking.
And destiny, as such.
Because things don't just happen.
Everything we do leads us to a point, a moment.
Every choice decides if we live or die. If we love or lose.
And you'll be there to pick up the pieces.
If this isn't fate or destiny - it sure as hell isn't chance.
Love. Isn't chance.
The people that make us the people that hate people that are only the way we hate them because of the people that influence them. Isn't chance.
There is no chance in trust.
Even when you take a chance within your trust.
Trust is strong. Forgiving.

We trust people everyday.
We trust the bus driver to get us home safely.
We trust that the air isn't toxic. We trust our safety when we walk into school gates. Those things are simple.
But sometimes we put our trust in bigger things, our faith in the bigger.
I put my faith in my friends.
I pray they know when I'm upset and help.
Sometimes they don't. And that brakes something.
I trusted you not to fall for me, to just be the one I had that wasn't everyone else.
Too late now.

But sometimes there's just one person we need to restore our faith in everything.
I'll never tell her she did it.
But I wish I'd mean more to her.
And let her know how much she means to me.
She fixes the hurt that no one else can, just because she listens.
And the fact she wishes for things I'm not to her. Hurt.
But I'll always be here.
Because, the truth is, I need her.
And she made everything that hurt over weeks past, feel better.
She makes me think she cares. And that's all I need.
Someone real who cares.

But, I trusted you.
I thought you cared about me.
You were a great friend. Were, being key word here.
You were nothing but honest. And I broke something.. I miss you.
But you've replaced me, almost. It hurts.
And we'll never get what ever fucked up friendship we had back.
I s'pose it's for the better?
I still liked when I could tell you everything. When you told me everything.
When you cared.
Cared. Past tense.
I miss you.

Match-makers in heaven only got a one track mind, so in our case I don't think they'd mind.

I think you'll forgive me. You shouldn't, but you will. Everyone will. And in the end, we'll be back to square one. And I'll always be doing the same things.

It's a circle, a mean cycle.

I don't want to leave any more, I haven't told anyone, really.
Not properly. I'm not going. I've made that choice for real. I let the plans fall through. I don't have a second chance - so this better be the right one.
Even if it's not; it's a road, and adventure, a trip.
Another beginning of a story. My ending's without begins.

There are gallows deep inside my lungs, that's where I hung ambition.

I washed my bed covers. That's all I did. And now, my bed feels so big, so empty. It's missing something. I hasn't smelt like you in a long time. But I could still feel you there. Now I don't know what I feel. And I can't sleep for the empty ache that rings in my ears.

She could make hell feel just like home.

"I like alot of things. But I only love a few. And I don't actually hate anything at all. I Just don't like some things. I do alot of things I shouldn't do, and not enough of things I should. But at the same time, I back out of alot of situations and suck up sometimes."

Oh yes, we are patient, patients.

7:00 AM

"..Barren rage of death's eternal cold."

If I was your vampire;
Certain as the moon -
Instead of killing time,
We'll have each other until the sun.

Of course this was going to happen, what did I expect?
I'd never meant to call you mine. 
I just didn't expect you'd make me feel like this.
I don't love you - far from it.
But you made me feel special. Needed, almost. Adored, even.
But that's you isn't it. You're just that charming, right?
This shouldn't hurt.
And hurt is most likely the wrong word, but I don't like how it feels.
How you make me feel. It's stupid.
Will you tell her about me? Because I'd bet you won't.
I told people about you, you know. About how happy you made me.
See, your comfort was different.
It wasn't empty, it wasn't in pity. And you told the truth.
But you softened it. 
Not too much that it wouldn't be the truth any longer.
But enough that it stung instead of bruised.
It helped. Boy, you help.
I should never have expected you to care.
Even when you said you did.
Or would.
And there's a difference between love and like. 
And the spaces between care and more then that are immense.
I hope you fall for her. And let her fall for you.
It's good for you. 
Still does make this any easier.
I feel betrayed, almost. Like I expected more for you.
And I shouldn't.
I was never going to be yours.
You asked, and I declined.
I should have been more formal with my heart.

10:48 PM

Her love; for whose dear love - I rise and fall.

I need you so much closer.

Just how far does the universe go?

Does it ever end? You say you want to know.
Just how high can you count, before the numbers all runs out?

It's been almost eight months.
Almost eight amazing, months.
They haven't been perfect. That's harsh I know; but they haven't.
Not when I act the way I do.
Eight months of hurting her. Eight months of goodbye.
I don't know why I do it. Hurt her the way I do. I wish I didn't. I wish I could stop. I love her more then she'll ever know. So much more.. But I can't prove that. I can't show her. Can't tell her. Because she doesn't think she's good enough. She's so good. She's so perfect. And when I act like this, I can't show that. It's me that's not good enough. I don't do enough. But it's true: she is perfect. Perfect for me. Perfect with me. And I know I could be perfect for her.. She lights up my day, just with words. But my words are never good enough. Never special enough, or strong enough.

I didn't come here to hurt you, now I can't stop.

Actions speak louder than words. And my action break her. Oh, God they hurt her. And I don't won't to hurt her. But I'm too selfish to say goodbye, for good.
What kind of person does that? How selfish do I need to be? I lie. And act against our love. There's no excuse for it. Not when I yell. Not when I take things out on her. Or get mad at the way things are. The way she is. Because she's stunning. So brilliant. She knows what to say. Even when she has nothing to say. It's so cliche, but her smile, breaks my heart. It's so gorgeous, so amazing. And I can't see it all the time.
And I'm the one that takes it away.
I used to be the one to put it there. Now I shatter it. But even when my hearts breaking, and hers is broken; there she is. Ready to glue me back together. I can't even show her in person how brilliant I think she is.

Where is this love? I can't see it, I can't touch it, I can't feel it. I can hear it.
I can hear some words, but I can't do anything with your easy words.

Maybe that's just because I'm not like her.
I don't stare, or do everything for one person. But I'm just not like that.That's how selfish I am. I love the attention she gives me. Because that's what kind of person I am.
It's ridiculous how far attention gets me. I'd give up the world for her. I'd take everything I had to give, and give it straight to her. Just to hear her say anything. Even if it was just for a proper goodbye. I'd do everything for her. But I can't show her that.
And it's selfish of me. It's so selfish. She makes me feel good enough. Makes me think I could be enough. And I can't do that for her.Maybe it's because we're that different. But it's still so wrong. If I didn't act like I do. If I was faithful. If I said what I really thought. Everything could be okay. I'd give anything for her to be happy again. I'd leave. I'd never talk to her if I knew that, even eventually, she'd be happy again. I don't even know what to say anymore to make her smile. Proper smile. Not laugh at the stupid things I say or do. Smile from the inside, just the way she makes me smile. The grin that never leaves me some nights because she's so perfect. And I can't do that anymore. I make her cry. I've done that in person. I've seen her cry. And nothings as bad as that. I'd give up everyone I've ever loved, everyone that's ever loved me - or ever will. Just to never see her cry again.

Take me take me back to your bed;
I love you so much that it hurts my head.

She really is beautiful, flawless; mine.
I love her so much, to the point that when I kiss her, I can't think.
That when I think about her, I know things will be okay. Because I have her. And I will have her for a very long time to come.
She gives me hope that everyone else will find someone that loves them the way she loves me - the way I love her.
She makes me try, makes me want to be better. I need to be as good as her. Just to be hers. Because it's not fair to call myself hers when I'm so imperfect.
Her eyes hold me in place when she makes my heart want to fly into the clouds.
She makes my thoughts swirl and my metal roller coaster derail. All around one thought. All around her.
I can listen to the worst songs and still find the lyrics that remind me of her. The kind of things I wish I could give her to show her how much she means to me. The way her eyes shine when songs play she likes; the way she laughs with her mouth open, and the cheeky grin she flashes when she knows she's doing something wrong. And the way that melts my heart, I'd let her kill me. The way she sings and dances. And the looks she gets when she realises how silly she looked. But how beautiful she looked to me. The noises she makes when she doesn't want me to look at her, or acknowledge something she's said or done. And how much that makes me want to hold her until the world ends. The way she laughs when I'm mad at her and I can't stay mad. The things that I hate the most about her - those things that make me love her all the more.

If I ever write the story of my life;
don't be surprised if you're where it begins, girl.

I wished for her, every day. For someone like her. Someone to take away the hurt I had for a reason I couldn't even name.
She filled every void anyone ever left before I even knew they'd put it there.
The way she meant the world to me; the way she made me smile. Made my day perfect, just because I could talk to her. When I called her my best friend before I'd ever admit to myself I loved her as much as I did. How happy she made me, even when she'd keep me up far too late. How I'd write her name everywhere. And not even have an excuse - I have one now. I'd take back everything I ever said that hurt her; even if I'd never known I'd said it. It take away every thing I ever did that did anything other then make her happy. I'd die to know she forgave me because she could. Not because she thought she had to. Because even if she never forgave me; I'd still love her - with everything I have and had.

But if you know how strong my love is..
And your heart and mind can comprehend;
just how long I'm gonna feel like this - then you'll know what infinity is.

Amy Louise;
I'd give the world to call you mine until it ended.
I'd never give you the stars;
not when they could never compare to how stunning you are.
The oceans can't compare to what's in my heart when I think about you.
No one will ever love you more then this.
And I'll never love anyone as much as this.
My forever thing. My girlfriend. My everything.
Amy ameliorate.

They say that time goes on and on, even after we're long gone.
And there's a black hole up in space, that pulls so strong, light can't escape.
They'll find the answers to all those mysteries, but they won't understand what's between you and me.

7:39 PM

The answer's in the smile.

I don't like you. Not the way you like me.
I don't want you. Not the way you want me.
And I'm happy with the words, 'best friend'.
You're not.
Best friends; gives me what I want.
Someone there - always.
Someone to give me the attention I want.
Someone to give me the contact I want.
But if you can't settle. If you ruin this again, I can't take you back.
It's hard - it hurts.
Every time I step away from you.
I can't run far, ever.

No pretty lyrics. No silly metaphors. This times for real, for keeps.

I can't tell people how I really feel. I feel the same as some people I know that.
And when they hold me when I cry, it helps. But I want a best friend. I'll never have a best friend. Not a proper one. They all have someone else. I can see it, see the look when they pity me, that's the last thing I want. I just want someone to care. And they only people that make me think they really do care, leave. Or get sick of it.
I know I'm a drama queen. I know I act like an attention seeker, and I know I hurt people. But I need one person, who's there, always.
I want to be the one people feel second best to. Because I'm first choice. And I know it's too much to ask, but I wish I wasn't so leavable.
If I wasn't leavable. I'd have someone. I'm forgotten, so easily. I know I am, because when I'm really upset, I'm always second best.
I do stupid things, I know I do. And I shouldn't be forgiven. I just want one person to think about how I feel, not how every one else will. Because this hurts, and hurts so bad. And today, Jessie cared. She let me cry. But she doesn't know - she doesn't understand. She just wants to listen.
I want someone to want me. Want me the way I want them.

I know I'm not strong enough. But I can't be stronger. Not when there's so much no one knows that can't heal. Somethings I can't let heal. But I can't be stronger.
I want someone to be there for me, be the stronger side of me. I can do that for other people; be the side they need to stand. But I don't have someone like that for me. And the second it feels like I finally have someone, someone who really cares; who could be there. It slips away.

Faith is stupid. Faith in anything.
My God hates me. I get let down - I let people down.
I can't feel like this, stay like this or be this way much longer. I feel guilty for not being happy, or making people happy. For bugging people with my stupid problems. And for crying so much. I wish I didn't have to change. But I can't even remember how I was before everything happened. I don't know if it was better, but I'm sorry if you miss it.
I miss it too.

All I ever did was look up to you.
And if all I ever did was let you down.
Ain't nothing stopping me now.

12:27 AM

Just enough to fill the void her daddy left.

It hit so hard, like a bullet through my heart.

I hate days like this. I really do.
Days when every thing's so much what I want. And I laugh until it hurts.
Days I feel wanted.
And if this weekend goes like I'm hoping, things might be harder.
I need to make my decision. Soon.
But if there's many more days like today, I won't be able to go.
The bad things made it easier. Make it easier. I hate them, but they do. They sever the ties I thought I had, and cut the hopes of having things the way I want.
I know it's not real. I'm not like them, but it feels like it sometimes.
Like they want me there.

How long before I'm just a memory? How long before you can't remember me?

I miss him, you know.
Just like I miss her.
Just like I miss everyone.
He was all I used to have. And I thought he needed me.
He made me feel like he cared. Now, he won't talk to me. Won't acknowledge me.
And it hurts, more then I ever thought it could.
I loved him. I loved him, so much.
And I pushed him so far away; I broke something.
And now I can't have him. Ever.
No matter how I try. He only needs me when he hates her.
Not like he used to need me. Like I mattered. Like I was the secret kept.
Now I'm nothing.
I don't want to know that. I want things to go back to how they where before I asked to much of you. Before you held me when I cried. Before I ruined everything.
I can't even say sorry. Because I don't even know what to be sorry for anymore.

I took what I could get and literally it took the place of love.

Change is inevitable.
So is death. And breathing. And life. And the fact that the stars shine. And that grass is green.
Somethings are good. Some aren't.
Which is change?
Good. Or bad?
It's both. And I hate that.
I know I say alot. And I should focus on the good. And I do think things are good.. Just bad is easier. Everything. Simple.
But you don't really notice change, until you compare.
You don't always realise how much people change, if you're always there. Because you change with them. It only hurts when you look back. Look at how much things aren't how you used to love. But you love the here and now, right?
But looking at how much you've changed hurts the most.
And boy, have I changed.
I'm not broken in the same ways. Just broken.
It took people I used to talk to all the time, people that meant the world to me, to point out how different I am. I loved them. And now, I don't want to dwell on them. And they bug me. It's not right.
It hurts.
But I don't want to go back.. I like change. I like when I change. I'm just sorry to whoever gets caught up in the whirl wind.

See I recall quite perfectly who I was;
I got a strong will, just weak hands.
And I don't know what to do with either one of them.

Ps: This blog will probably be added onto. Sorry it's ambiguous and uneloquent.
And that I'm too lazy to proof read.

6:07 AM

It feels like I'm falling in love, when I'm falling to the bathroom floor.

That's all I needed.
One thing to break the ice around my heart, and release me to smile.
I didn't know what was wrong - because nothing was.
I just didn't feel like much. Or doing much.
But i was just in slow motion.
The ice took it's grip, and smothered me.
But I can breathe now. Love. That's all it is.
And even though things aren't perfect, right now, I feel okay.
Because I am okay. Things are okay.
And if good enough is as good as it's gonna get. The times I feel okay, are the best times I have.

5:21 AM