What I realised after that day was that I didn't love him. Yes he is amazing and yes I know that we would work if we tried but I am just not there yet. Sure I have thought about him being there in the future, but something is always missing. There is a link that just isn't there. Yes he is amazing, exactly what everyone would say I want. But I mean, no. I can't just keep pretending that there is a real chance. That will only kill me, and him. Yes I am aware that what I am saying makes no sense, if he is perfect then what is the problem. That's just it even his bad habits aren't anything that would stop you. They just make him funny and weird and honestly they make him all that much better. Blagh, I don't even know what is happening. Or what I am saying because this doesn't make sense. None of this makes sense, why I feel like this because ... I can't stop thinking about it, him, everything. Whenever I close my eyes to sleep, I see his smile.

I have a pretty simple life. A great family: mom, dad, brother, sister. Great friends. Great activities: spring play, choir, Model UN. I’ve always been one of those people that people look up to: after all, I’m a straight A student, actually, no, I’m a straight A+ student with the occasional A. I’m successful with everything I do, and I try to be nice to everyone. But, uh, I don’t have a boyfriend. Of course, I’ve had crushes. Lots of them. I’ve texted guys, talked to guys, but I’m a generally awkward person and I’m not the prettiest one by all means. I fall into that wierd social category, and let me know if you know what I mean, where there’s the really popular pretty girls above me, and then there’s the not so popular, quiter, nerdy girls below me. So, of course the popular pretty girls all have boyfriends and the quiter, nerdy girls do to. They have their relationships with their friends. And then there’s me, in this akward place in the middle. Rung 5 on the social ladder.

One time I searched disgusting foods on Google. 
You don't want to know what I found from that search...
Anything from dog meat to fermented horse milk popped up!
I realize that other countries have different traditions and beliefs but...WOW!
If you think about it, other countries might look at our food and say eww!
So we don't really have any room to talk since our country's rate of obesity is the highest and other countries rates of obesity are lower than ours. What is that telling people? Maybe their food, which we think is disgusting, is healthier than ours.

I'm writing this because I'm sad
Because I have feelings that have to go unsaid
So I put them into a rant because it makes more sense
I don't want pitty or "I'm sorrys"
I'm not expecting them from anyone
I want somebody to read this and know how someone feels when they have no more words left in them
I've been robbed of my will to speak and my way to write things that make sense
So I'm sorry if this is confusing or hard to understand what the point is
But the truth is there is no point in a long venting piece about my feelings
All of my writing seems like a jumble of words and sentences put together
Like a jigsaw puzzle that has lost a piece over time that nobody has bothered to look for
And since a picture is worth a thousand words
My feelings can go unsaid and this rant will paint the picture
I guess I'm not writing this because I'm sad

Tick. I am like a clock on the wall, dangling and moving in one place at a time, constantly. I endlessly wait for a change, and I am sick of the same cycle, and routine everyday. I just wait for something new to happen, like daylight savings. Tick. I will always be stuck here. People look at me of boredom and no value, and sometimes of excitement and impatience. Tick . I hold information that I can always give and never stop. At times I try to break the glass of my social prison, but instead I am floating above others. I do not always have others look up to me, as much as I would like. Tick.

I am the one who says what’s on her mind, most of the time.

I am the one who puts others above herself.

I am the one who tries to pay attention, but does not always succeed.

I am the one who works hard at everything I do, Even if it does not come easy.

I am the one who does a lot of different things. “I am” is not a statement that always works because people do not have to stick to a certain mold, even if they set that mold themselves. When I was writing this piece I did not know where it was going I just wrote. I wrote quite a few buts, because sometimes I can not stick to one “I am” and be okay with that. The mold needs to change for me everyday, because being something different is perfectly great, and because I am a great many things on different days.
 

It’s numbing to see so many people 
dead


so many
so many
so many

This Keeps Happening. 

It keeps happening
and still people tell me
“It’s rare,
it won’t happen to you,
you shouldn’t be scared”

no, I should be.

i should be scared
for my future.

i should be scared
for all of those poeple
who don’t have one anymore.

i should be scared 
of taking life for granted. 

i should be scared
of letting go.

i should be scared 
to forget.

And yet. 
When I see the breaking news
in my inbox on Friday 
all I think is: 
“Another?!” 

The ink leaks from my pen like blood from an open wound.
It drenches my paper with incoherent words and thoughts in hopes to bring simple solace to the insanity within my mind.
This ebb and flow of a stagnant sea and a roaring riptide,
Folds my body in of itself like a freak show contortionist, but this pen.
O this pen, it straightens the wrinkles of my soul and strengthens the beat in my heart.
This pen, a lantern, to rid my life of the deepening darkness that seems to encompass my mind.
This paper: a door, wide open for me to waltz though into a jovial world.
And this world, O this world such an unsatisfactory sensation of suffering satire to live in this world today.
Much to do, much to change, more to fix.

A gun barrel to a dead man.
A knife’s point to a numb world.

And me sitting here.
Here with my pen,
Here with my paper.
Just here
Me with my world,

Scoffing at your world.
 

Things
Never seem to turn out
The way you want them to. 
College,
For instance, was the worst thing
I ever had to plan for.
Going
Back and forth, looking
From college to college.
Trying
To decide my path
Was seemingly endless. 
But
Now I'm set to attend college
Next year, for an incredible major. 
Awesome!
Except now, I want to 
Change my mind. 
Again. 
If you ask any of my friends, they'll
Tell you how many careers I debated upon.
Director, 
Coroner, tarot reader, horse trainer,
Marine biologist, back to director, etc. 
Currently,
I like the idea of tattoo artist, 
Which is odd since I can't draw. 
Still,
It intrigues me enough that
I've started trying to get better at it. 
Maybe
I am meant to do many things,
Because my heart cannot make a solid choice. 
Maybe
I will let myself try everything,