You're the clown and I'm the circus.

I always seem to miss him at weird times. I was never really sure if it was him I missed or just the thought of him. I think it's actually a combination of both. I saw a picture of him today with his friends and it really made me miss him. I know that deep down inside I secretly hope to run into him while I'm in town or wherever. The last time I saw him it was from a distance and through a window. I wonder if he ever thinks of me the way I randomly think of him.

I cannot believe I'm actually admitting that I miss him either. I'm torn on the subject. Part of me tells myself that he's wrong for me and not worth being missed. I tell myself that he's 'scum' and I shouldn't care about him. He was a jerk. The other part of me tells myself that he really didn't do anything that wrong. I don't even know the whole story because we never talked about it. It just sort of all ended that night. I tell myself he's worth missing. Maybe he is and maybe he isn't. If he's meant to come back into my life, I'm sure the fates will allow it.

I'm not scared to die, but I'm a bit afraid of what comes after.

I want to put summer into one of my old shoe boxes and save it for those cold winter months. For some reason I've gotten to thinking that if I save a little sunshine for then, when I open my box it will all come bursting out. I'll be back to the lazy days I spent at home instead of those busy days at school. Like that could ever happen.

I spend my whole day awaiting the night. I wait for one minute conversations instead of enjoying my company. It makes no sense, really. I'll miss these days I've clearly wasted soon ... wasted on waiting for nothing ...

I don't make sense anymore. Not even to myself. I want to play hard to get but he's already got so much of me. I'm too impatient. As much as I want to take it slow and play it by year, I want to know all that he has planned for us. Or all that he doesn't have planned. Am I even in his future? Tonight's awkward conversation makes me laugh. It might've been the whiskey I drank. I'll blame it on that.

I've realized stars are some of my favorite things. Maybe because they're always there when others aren't. They're there to talk to, wish on, and dream with. Always there to listen when others cover their ears or turn away. A little piece of you in the sky, but farther away. Perhaps that's better. We can't attach ourselves to them as we do to people. Yet, they still smile down at us and we love them just the same ...

I like when people listen to me word for word, not just beginning and end. I like when people pick out certain words and phrases and relate them back to things I've said before. I always repeat things in some way and in some form. It takes a true friend to realize this. I love her for this.

Standing in the rain is like getting hit with bullets.

When you're caught out in the rain you try to avoid every puddle possible even though you're already soaked. There's something about wet and denim that don't go right together. It causes that feeling of heaviness pulling down at your body worse than the gravity keeping you glued to the Earth.

Everyone screams when the thunder booms. Your eyes light up with the flashes in the sky. Ready for the cloud to burst open, but not really. If you were ready you wouldn't be under it, getting soaked when it starts to pour. Instead, you stand there trying to find some place that is dry when in fact ... there is no where.

Yet, soaking wet, you still try to avoid every puddle possible. What's the difference if your jeans start to pull you down anymore? You cannot drown in a puddle ... or can you? Face first into a ditch of merky mud. It feels like bullets on your back without the blood loss. Even so, the pain isn't the same without the silver.

Someone who drowns in three feet of water won't get the same applause as someone who drowns in more.

Why?

You'll drown if you stay in the water too long.

"I don't want a relationship right now." I think you don't want one right now because you're scared. You're scared that you might fall for me. There's something there. I know there is. I feel it. Everytime we brush past each other or lock eyes ... sparks.

Or maybe it's all in my head.

My head has been a whirlwind the past month. Fail. Pass. Achieve. Dream. Love. Hate. Anger. Frustration. Sweat. Tears. Blood. Sorrow. Sleep. Tiredness. Happiness. I can't seem to be set on one emotion. It's a blur of all fifteen in a day.

Waiting on you. Go.

Are you ready for me to jump back into your life again? Go back to what it meant then. This is now, but I'm set on the past except better. We can be better. Give it a chance.

True to your heart.

I saw a little old woman on the news today. She's 98 and throwing the first pitch for an opening baseball game for the minor league Yankees. I hope I'm like that when I'm older. Just enjoying the game of baseball.

"I'm not a baseball player, but I love the game."

Sweet sixteen and never been kissed.

My bad moods seem to skyrocket then plumet. "Are you on medication? Because, you should be." "Woah, calm down. It's not my fault your temper is so bad." Everyone's taking notice lately. I can't help it if my true colors are waving in the wind like death flags on a ghost ship. I only take these things to the heart like the daggers that pierce it. Never feeling the pain, always failing to cry out. It seems as though I'm falling fast in one of those dreams. Tripping and falling. My mouth opens and no words come out. I choke. Choke back tears that is. Force them back where they started from. Go back, go back. Droughts are the only thing welcome anymore. When it rains, it pours. Acid rain falls and poisons everything I stand for. I stand for me and me alone. If that's poisoned, then I have nothing else to live for. Therefore, I'll never let it fall. Droughts forever. No pain forever. Taking these things to my head not my heart. It's easy to send a bullet there. No hard skull to protect it from the luster of silver.

Vulnerable.

Are you as confused as I am?

everything in her life was perfect, everything in his life was not. they were like day and night, the sun and the moon. the things she wanted to be, he was. the things he wanted to be, she was. that's why they matched together so perfectly. fit together like gloves fit on hands. not too tight and not too loose. bright like the day, bright like the sun. dark like the night, dark like the moon. no one understood. they never understood. what brought them together?

nothing.

One more thought before I shut you out.

get me out of my mind. sometimes i hate thinking the way i do because i feel like i'm selling myself short. it's like i have a one night stand with good times then they all go home in the morning. trading laughs for cries and happiness for sorrow. i make everything overly dramatic, at least in my mind.

thank you for the smile you sent my way when i asked about the quarter over your shoulder.

one more thing. i hate the way you talk to me but don't seem to care. you stalk my away messages and only speak when you think they're about you. forget my favorite relationship, blood can be replaced.