Sorry...

Oh, New York, New York, New York.... How to begin.
Well, I will later, because now I have to write two papers by Monday.
But I'm letting you know that my blog is soon coming to an end. At least this one.
I am starting a new blog at an undisclosed location. Sorry.
I haven't been honest with you all.
Because I want to be happy about everything, but I don't know if I can begin to figure out how.
My New York post will probably be my last on this site address.

Trips

I leave for NYC tomorrow morning at 7. :)

I'm excited. I've only been to Chicago. Don't get me wrong, Chicago's fine.

But it's no New York City.

It's my first of my big adventures. I just wish my sister could go with me.

Here

Secret Sunday: 5

I realize this is late. I'm sorry.

I sleep with tissues next to my bed.

Just in case.

I know

I know why you don't read this

It's not about what you thought of me

When you said 'good-bye'

It's about what I thought of me

When I asked you to reconsider

Over

I would say I'm sorry.
But I'm glad that is over.

Secret Sunday: 4

Everyone likes me better than I like me.
It doesn't take much.
But I'll never understand it.

Sorry

"Wow, you look great."
"You... sound surprised."
"No, you just look very different."
"Are you here alone?"
"No, my date's dancing."
"Oh."
"Who are you here with?"
"Myself."
"Why? You didn't want a date?"
"No one asked."
"What? No one? I find that really hard to believe."
"Well... Ya know. Thanks."
"At least I got to see it. Someone appreciates it."
"Thanks. I'd better go. Bye."
"Bye. Have fun."


I'm so sorry
That I can't feel for you
The way you feel for me.
(I really am)

BFFs?

We should be having sleepovers and getting ready together.
But I don't think you had that in mind...

Never

I hear the songs.

I've stopped crying because of their meaning.

I started crying because it never applied to me.

There was no promise

Or phone call

Not to me.

But you knew there was never a forever.

I didn't.

Here

Drift

I don't know how
I let myself drift from them.

Because I love those girls
To death.

Reply

With the truth I fall apart.

I answer them

With the lie they want

"Yeah, it's fine."

I try to ignore the questions.

I try to push it from my mind.

I try to pretend I don't have to reply.

Then I don't have to deal with saying it.

I'm sorry I do this.

Here

Friends

We could be great friends...

But I'm scared I'm not good enough...

Here