Everything on here looks like myspace now, except more confusing. I miss the old xanga.

I die trying to give him all the things I wish he could give to me. For awhile, I tried this concept where any time I was really feeling like I needed something, I would give that to someone else. This has usually been a pretty good remedy. I need someone to tell me I'm beautiful? I figure, hey, someone else needs that too, so I'm going to tell them, etc. It was a good way to help someone else, and in the end, feel better...but this time, it just feels unfair.

Why can't you let me be a part of that world? I've asked, so many times. Do you think that because it's not my niche, I'm not interested? And who knows....I might be good at it, too, but you make me so scared to try. It shouldn't be a big deal, except this? My writing? That's what that world is to you. It reminds me of Finding Neverland, when she steals his journal and reads his play, and it breaks her heart to know that she's not in that world.

I hate the way this makes me....all I want to do is patronize you until you feel the way I feel, but I can never do that, ha. Because you aren't me. So what do I do?

I feel this way, and I write these words. And I think "he wouldn't do this...he would know what do to". And I run to him, and I bat my eyes, and it makes me sick.

And I hate myself for thinking that.

And I hate that you wouldn't have an opinion, if you knew.

Someone said to me once, "this is going to happen...there are going to be people and things that try to get in the way...but at the end of the day, you just have to remember that he picked you."

Yeah....why did you pick me?

But if I built you a city
Would you let me?
Would you tear it down?

But there you go for the last time
I finally know now what I should have known then
And I could still be ruthless if you let me
But there you go when I'm not done
You're waving goodbye well at least you're having fun
The rising tide will not let you forget me

Tonight, I chose not to love you anymore.

It's interesting to look back at the trends of my inbox in my email. I realized that I had a lot of stuff that was undeleted sitting in my mailbox, so I decided to look through and see what I could get rid of.

In the beginning, emails were all from Justin...."Justo", my best friend at the time. The emails talked about how much he missed me...how much he wished that my relationship with my boyfriend didn't change the fact that he and I were like "brother and sister". ha....

Then, emails are from KJ. The emails that pretty much told the stories of our relationship, since we didn't go to the same school and emailed eachother from libraries and classes all the time (hehehe...)

Then, they are from Ashlynn, freshmen year, when for even just a little while, it seemed like we were in it together. we had a song...Breakaway, be Kelly Clarkson. Funny how things turn out. That song still makes me think of her. The emails talk about boys, love, and diseases we made up like Emoherityaplagnerism. And how we were both just trying to figure this whole new world out.

Then, I have an email with pictures from the first time I went to South's youth group....a day that pretty much changed the way a lot of my life would play out later. I have a few emails about details and plans for the quinceneara. And then the pictures from it. and I have one from a boy who was pretty special to me, and it had lyrics from a song....

"No one else compares when she's around, I still can't believe that she's in love with me."

Then, there is a long, long gap,  and the next email is from Kendra. One that ultimately helped revive a friendship that was broken by things that were hidden. A friendship that is now one of the things I cherish most.

Soon after that is a long series of emails detailing what went wrong with the girl I cared about more than anything. Reading them now, I realize that maybe a lot of it was just no one's fault. Maybe none of us could control what happened, and we all argued and stayed bitter for so long because we were really trying to hold on to something God was telling us to let go of. I always held on too tight. If she could read this now, I would hope that she would see how much I still miss her, even though I moved on.

And the first emails from Mark, where I really got to know the pain he had been through. That's when that kid came into my life and gave me so many times that I'll never ever forget.

And letters from an old pastor, telling me that he missed me but was happy that I found somewhere else to belong.

And then again, from Justin, trying to finally mend the issues that we had ignored for over a year.

After that, my emails start to show a trend of "I miss you and am thankful I met you" s from various summer camps, and one from a boy named Marcus that, for a little while, made me believe in boys again, hahah.

Next, emails in German all came into my inbox, and the problems from the year before faded. The first one was from Joschka, a boy that had pretty much changed everything for me. He taught be how to breathe again, and I can never thank him enough for that. But, it was the first time he talked to me after going back home, and reading them made me remember what I felt the first time I read them.

And meine liebe, Carolin. The first emails in which I got to know her, not knowing that she would be the craziest, funnyist, most loving sister I could ask for : )

Soon after that, my inbox filled with notices from colleges, or guidence counselors, or my mom about scholarships. Now, every day I get two or three from schools all over the country, and it all seems to surreal to me.

My inbox isn't filled with dramatic whining anymore over situations that were never fixed, but from colleges asking me to visit and my brother, thousands of miles away, giving me pictures and telling me he misses me. This is what's important right now.

So call in nostalgia, but every email in this inbox symbolizes what it took to get me here. And that's okay.

             The tide breaks
                                You watch the stars fade
          They gather you back to their home
                                              I guess it’s better than being alone.

I watched The Last Kiss again tonight. I should have done my homework. I should still be doing it. But instead, I'll sit and stare in the mirror again. I love and hate watching this movie. It's so full of pain, but it attractively raw, which is what undoubtedly draws me to it. If you've seen it,  then you know that it's one of those movies, where you actually can feel the pain Jenna has. I have only felt that kind of pain twice in my life. The first time was, well, the first time my heart was ever broken. That pain....it lasted so long. And during that time, it isn't like it left when I was happy....it was just this constant ache. The second time I felt like that was when I had to say goodbye to the single person who had been able to teach me how to live again. When he left, I felt that ache again, only stronger....deeper. The kind where you feel like your stomach is going to implode, and as hard as you try, you just can't seem to inhale. Where your body is so weak, and yet all you feel like doing is running a thousand miles until you stop feeling it.

I have a lot of problems, and I just never really face them.

~One of my teachers told me that he understands me...that he knows I need people around, but that I simply try too hard, to the point where I'm not really myself anymore. I guess I never thought about it that way.

~I know he didn't mean it in the way that it came off. He didn't mean to get so angry. I understand that he's frustrated....I made him be that way. But remembering the yell in my face, or the grip on my wrist.....the countertop in my ribs....everything feels colder now, and I can't help but cringe when he kisses my cheek. This is an example of loving someone so hard that you push them away.

~There's this guy, and he's willing to make things work with me....or he seems to be interested in finding out what that would mean someday. And all I can do is walk away.....why do I always walk away from what's good for me in order to wait for something I'll never have?

~I'm not going to be able to go to the schools I want to, because I don't have the money. I should have thought about that seriously a long time ago, before I let these dreams go too far. But then I hear his voice saying, "you know, you can do better than those back-up schools you're applying to," and part of me believes that...but how am I supposed to make them see it? Not just universities......everybody. How am I ever going to show them that I can be something.

..and I saw you...

Today at the assembly, we watched those videos and listened to the speeches of people who lost someone they loved so much and I was fine, for the most part. No tears, but all I could think was...what would I do if I lost you? Would I make it like they did?

Then, he asked us to close our eyes, and to picture the person or people who mean the absolute most to us...who we hold closest. No matter who else I tried to see, it was only you. Then, the tears came, because I just willed it and willed it to go away-- for your face to be someone else's. I cried mostly because I knew that it would be you, and I was scared how comfortable I was with that at first. He said that, and I saw you. And that scared me, because I knew what was coming next......"think about how you would feel if they weren't here anymore..what would you want to be the last thing you said to them?" I've thought about this often...if I could only tell you one thing for the rest of my life, what would it be? What would I need you to know?

"Raise your hand if you promise that you're going to find that person later and tell them that you love them and you don't want to live without them...tell them what you feel."

And while everyone else raised their hands, I sat, with my face in my hands, hoping that no one could tell that the tears came. Because I couldn't raise my hand. I couldn't make that promise. You're so far away, and I can't cry about it anymore. Is there a point where honesty doesn't really matter anymore when it comes to saving someone else...or saving yourself? Where is the line? When I'm I just being selfish? I need to let you be you now. I can't keep telling you how this feels for me without breaking your heart. And is that love?

I started to think...it's just not supposed to be this way. Love isn't meant to hurt people. Who could have known that love would someday make people ache inside. That it would ruin relationships. That it would always, always, be there....not the love, I mean, but the feeling that you had when you felt love or gave it. That one moment where you know you gave love to someone, even if they didn't see it..that feeling that you get when you know that it's not about you and what you get in return...that's what will remain on your heart forever. That's what will remain on my heart forever. Someday I'll figure out why.

...but I couldn't raise my hand.