I'm not a part of your cliche

Fuck you mom. Seriously, fuck you.

I won't be the cliche you want me to be. I will never be "normal." Not by your standards anyways. Go ahead and hate the clothes I wear or the music I listen to. Go ahead and tell me I can't write on my shoes. Try to push engineering on me. Convince me that I'll never be good enough.

I don't care anymore. I spent my entire life trying to please you and be who you want me to be. And every time I made a decision that brought me closer to being myself, you criticized me. You're always criticizing me. Tearing me down in places where there's nothing left but rubble. You're the reason for so many of my insecurities. You don't even know anything about me. You don't care to know. You only care that I'm the perfect child; after all I owe it to you don't I? Since I was an accident and all.

But this is my life and I am good enough and I am so sick and tired of you telling me I'm not.

I'll prove you wrong. That's a fucking promise.

And I really just need to feel like I belong. Because this silence is louder than any noise.
And for the first time in so long it's so close.
Because everyone I know talks and acts like they have no friends while I think to myself you have no idea. You have friends. You do stuff on the weekends. You go on adverures. Do the things I've always wanted to do. You live the life I wish I could.

You really have no fucking idea, do you?

You won't find me in the same spot; believe me, I could never stop

My life's turned upside-down.
Meet me out past the train tracks. I'm leaving and not coming back. You're right and I was wrong; This town will be the downfall of us all.

I love A Day to Remember so much.

And it just goes to show that I'm not the same person I used to be. I'm not the same girl I was six months ago, or even one month ago.

That's it, isn't it. Time will always go on, it never stops. And we keep moving forward, pushing past whatever obstacles might get in our way. Always changing, and never really loosing sight of who we are, who we were, who we're meant to be. It's off in the distance, but the grass is green here as well. We're not in a hurry. We'll get there eventually. We needn't try as hard as we do.


Sometimes I think I want to fall in love. But whenever I picture it, it makes me feel uneasy, like it isn't right for me. Like maybe I shouldn't. Maybe I won't. But maybe I will. And maybe I do want to and maybe I should.
And maybe I'll prove everybody who ever had a doubt in me wrong, including myself.
Clinging to promises that I force meaning into. Telling myself that I'm good enough, that I'm amazing and beautiful - and believing it.

And I never want to sleep again.

Can I just start over?

Not just with this blog. With everything.

With my friends. With the way I think. With this life. Everything will change and everything will be different. It has to be.

I'm actually making a conscious effort to not crash my car, and to do things with people. I have to much to live for. So many good times ahead. Friends that will actually care. It feels like it's been so long since I've felt like this.

And being on this site brings back so many memories. Feelings I thought I'd forgotten. And I want to cry and sing loudly at the same time for absolutely no reason. And I want to write a song about it, but I'm no good with words.

So I'll keep it all in. Because I can't decide whether I want complete strangers read know me, or my friends. Or maybe no one at all. Because I'm always so afraid that nobody will care, whether they know me or not. But it doesn't matter if they do. I want to write. I want to be able to write. I want to be one of those people who can't stop writing down their thoughts. But instead mine get lost so easily. This afternoon already feels like days ago.
I want to be able to remember who I was, so I know where not to go again.

I still think about it sometimes you know. Not as often though, and not the way I used to. It's weird, all I feel anymore is this overwhelming apathy with a faint sadness. It's like it was all a dream. I went back and read over some of my older posts and thought to myself, Did this really happen? Did I really feel that way? When I look at him, I try to remember how it used to feel, but I can't. I just don't remember. And sometimes I think I don't want to. It's just... Really strange to think about.

Track started today. I really hope the season will be great. I really hope this year will be great. In less than a month I will be at an awesome All Time Low concert. This summer, I really want to go to Warped Tour. I will hopefully learn the art of cymbals by the end of the summer. In less than a year I'll be in London with some of my best friends. In about a year, I will be in New York City. But again, this apathy is overwhelming. It's probably just because I'm exhausted, but I do hope it goes away in time for me to enjoy the last year and a half of my highschool career.

And to everyone I was not there for, I am really truly deeply sorry. I love you with all my heart, and I will become a better friend; a better person.



I also need to start posting here again.

I'm learning to stand on my own again

Without any help. No crutches, walker, or cane. Just these two scarred feet and the legs they're attached to. Because I need this now more than ever; Now when I feel so alone.

I know that those who will read this who know me will assure me that they are and will always be there for me. But you're not. Where were you last night? And the night before? And the last weekend? Where were you all those night when I broke down? The nights where I just sat there, shaking as tears rolled down my face and it felt as though I was melting. Where were you when I clutched the scissors so tightly in my hand and used every last drop of willpower just to put them down?

I will not openly confess these things to you. I am much too proud for that. But those who know me should know better. I always lie when I say "I'm fine," or "I'm just tired." It's painted plainly on my face, written in my my eyes. How can you not tell?

But even if you could, I probably would not confess. Because I fear that you don't care as much as you say you do. I fear that I complain too much, and I'm so afraid that you will leave me because of that. I don't want to complain to you that I have no friends - no one to hang out with, no one to talk to - when I am sitting there talking to you.

It would be nice to hold on to a friend for once though. Somebody who really really gets to know me, and still wants to stick around. I thought I was finally getting that, but it does seem as though you care less and less.

But this is me saying that it's ok. That I don't blame you, and I don't want you to feel guilty. You shouldn't. Because even though I need you, in a way, I don't anymore. I can do this by myself. With God's help. This is His gift to me, this ability to be independent. This is His strength coursing through my veins.

I'll be alright. I can stand on my own once more, and I don't need you to support my weight. But I'd like to thank you for all the times that you did.